tlRGOFER^^S DIARY 




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t LIBRARY OF tmGRKSS. l 



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^.UNITED STATES OF AMIlUICA.f, 



LEAVES 

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FROM 



A T PyO O P E E^' S P I A F^Y 




philadelphia: 

Published by the Author, 

1869. 



QM, e 



Entered accoi-fling to the Act of Congress, in the year 1870, in the 

Ch>rk's Office of the District Court 
of the United States in and for the Eastern District oi Pennsylvania. 



BELL, PRINTER, EIGHTH ft SANSOM STREETS. 






DEDICATED 



To THE Author's 

Co/viPANiONS IN Arms, 



ANDERSON CAVALRY.' 



CONTENTS, 



1. The Camp OF '61 7 

II. The Guns or Antietam T") 

in. RoUGH-hlDING IN KeXTUCKY 21 

IV. Down into Tennessee 29 

V. The Stone River Holidays H4 

VI. The Couriee, Line ")9 

VII. Chickamauga — Lookout Mountain (id 

APPENDIX. 

An account of. the Mutiny in the Anderson 

Cavdlry, at Nashville, Tenu., Dec, hSGJ 78 



The Ca 



MP OF '61, 



Yesterday I took a stroll to the site of my first camp. 
It is not far from Girard College, and I found that the 
walls of the extending city had encroached somewhat 
upon the place. But there was the field, without doubt, 
looking as green and fresh as on that summer day, eight 
years ago, when first I entered it. The old house still 
stands under the ancient elms ; the birds — could they be 
the same?— still flit and chirp among the leaves. The 
surroundings are quiet. No one lives in the house, 
apparently. There is nothing to tell the chance observer 
that this green slope was once bald and slippery with the 
wear of martial feet; that here a thousand men lived for 
two mouths in preparation for war. 

Sitting awhile upon the fence, and musing, I had a new 
sense of the pleasures of memory. It required but little 
effort of the imagination to restore to this weedy field the 
well-worn paths, the rows of snowy tents, the throngs of 
bran-new soldiery. Xor_ were the stirring scenes outside 
of camp less vividly recalled. 

Bull Run ! where really for the first time in our war, 

"Red Buttle stainpM liis foot. Jitiil nation-; felt tlio shock."" 

It is the most singular field in liistory; from which tlie real 
victors fled, leaving tlie vanquished in wondering posses- 
sion ! The name will always be full of startling memories 
1 



to those who recall the gloomy (lavs that followed the 
hattle, aii'l the pale, stern faces that surged about the 
news offices, as rumor followed rumor portentious and 
bewildering. Hardly had the echoes of the contest died 
away, ere we crowded to the recruiting offices and camps. 
The merchant, the mechanic, the clerk, the student, gave 
lip home and all in a moment; and of these there were 
not a few who trembled lest the surgeon's eye should detect 
some physical disability which they would fain conceal. 
The air was alive with the roll of drum«, and the flag — 
now dearer than ever before — fluttered in miniature from 
every window, or floated its full folds from the house-tops. 
Those were immortal days, when the hearts of the people 
were stirring with the sublime purpose to save their threat- 
ened freedom, and — for the idea wa« even then gestating 
— to share it with a bondaged race. Looking back now, 
in the light of the present, it is impossible not to recognize 
throughout that fearful struggle — from its beginning, thirty 
years before the firing on Sumter — the hand of Him who 

"Sways the liiiriuonious niy.^tery of tlie iitiivcrse, 
Even Ix'ffcr tli.an priiur^ ministers.'" 

But now, to get down from the fence.* Here is the very 
spot on which the Corporal and I put up our tent. The 
pin-holes have long since disappeared, but there is still 
the ditch that we dug, now overgrown with grass and weeds 
Whit hard, hot work it was, on that July day, to us soft 
bodied clerks! How we panted and perspired, wandering 
olTat short intervals to the sutler's for beer, and more than 
half repenting of our patriotism ! 

The first night brought also the first storm in camp. 
What soldier does not recall it in his experience? I pulled 
forth my diary -having hrouglit it with me as an aid to 
lefleclion —and read: 



" Last night the douds gathered heavily, and at midnight 
the rains descended and the floods came. I was awakened 
by the uproar, and arose in consternation. Found the 
Corporal already up and outside, securing the ropes and 
giving the pins an extra drive. The wind roared furiously, 
twaying and cracking the trees, and rocking our frail 
tenements to and fro like skiffs upon the sea. The rain 
was blown about in sheets, penetrated the tent, overflo^yed 
the shallow drain, and streamed under the canvas, floating 
away nearly all the straw of our beds. What remained 
was water-soaked, so that we could only squat despairingly 
on our heels until morning, thinking of the home comforts 
within a bow-shot of us. This morning we have fairly 
moated our castle, and may bid defiance to the next siege 
of the elements." 

Next day we put on the livery of war. It is perspiring 
even now to think of those heavy, "re-inforced" trousers, 
the canvas-lined jackets, yellow-braided, and bobbed be- 
hind; the stiff, Puritan hat, with its handful of brass 
ornaments, which were affixed in various ways, as best 
suited tKe undisciplined taste of the wearer. As a rule the 
big men got the little clothes, and vice versa— a. singular 
pe'rversity, which, with the consequent swapping and 
trading, came at length to be looked upon as among the 
''customs of service." To those of us who were wont to 
be well dressed and who now expected lady friends to visit 
us in camp, it was a mortal struggle with pride to swathe 
our forms in this huge toggery. 

We had sabres thrust into our hands the same evening, 
and the first dress parade was ordered— for the colonel was 
ambitious to see his growing regiment in line. It was a 
ludicrous array of swaddled heroes. Falstaff; I imagine, 
would have preferred to "march through Coventry" with 
his shirtless ragamuffins rather than have led our amply 



10 

clothed battalion I There was much swearing at the 
Quartermaster, who in turn swore at the Arsenal author- 
ities ; but, upon the whole, the boys took it good-humoredly^ 
and enjoyed the fun of the thing as much as the spectators. 

The first guard duty is a memorable event to the soldier. 
Here was my first ''beat," along this fence. When the 
keen-looking sabre was belted around the jacket (the 
latter folded over back and front for the purpose), and the 
clank of the blade in the scabbard startled the recruit as 
he stepped off witli martial tread, he felt then that he was 
indeed a defender of the flag. His bosom swelled almost 
enough to fill out the laps in his jacket. He was only 
puzzled to know what to do with his weapon: how the 
deuce to carry that scabbard so that it might not trip up 
his heels, or entangle itself in his legs. But O what 
misery in the long hours of tramp, tramp up and down a 
prescribed distance, in the iiot sun, or in the rain and mud ; 
in the incessant vigilance required to do homage to the 
officers, who would wander by, in blue and golden glory, to 
seek such salutation. And then at night the rudely broken 
slumber, the silent and seemingly endless hours, the 
intense straining through the darkness for the relief, and 
the informal reception of it when it came. 

" Who's that ?" shouts the hopeful guard. 

"Corporal with the relief." 

" Good ! hurry up, for Heaven's sake," &c. 

What matter if the Corporal takes him to task for it, or 
reports him to the sergeant? He is relieved — that is 
his happiness— and may rest for four hours. How sudden 
and sweet is the soldier's first sleep by the guard-house 
fire, after his maiden watch! Sweeter far than any after 
slumber ; for with every day of service he learns to sleep 
less soundly, so that the slightest bugle-note or tap of drum 
rouses hira at once to dutv. 



11 

Crowds of visitors roamed through the camp, peeping 
into our new white tents, and regarding ua curiously, as 
though we were already heroes of a hundred fights- 
Baskets of delicacies and bundles of notions were daily re- 
ceived by the fortunate ones whose friends or relatives 
were within easy distance. Few of us, indeed, except the 
Germans (of whom there were several companies in the 
■command) were compelled during our stay here to feed on 
army rations ; scarcely a tent but had its store of home- 
made dainties. But the frugal and adaptable Dutchmen 
took straightway to the food which the Government set 
before them. We natives affected at first to look down 
upon our comrades from Faderland as mere hirelings, 
"who had apparently been newly imported as "food for 
powder; " but they soon proved themselves worthy 
descendants of the stock that marched and fought under 
Blucher and Schwartzenberg. 

Over in that field the buglers used to practice. What 
a lamentable set of blowers they were ! I remember how 
•strange it seemed to me they could not do better, being 
Germans, to whom wind instruments come as naturally as 
do pretzels and beer. But it mattered little, then, how 
■they rendered the calls : the notes fell upon ignorant ears. 
With every toot of the bugles, recurring with bewildering 
frequency, the recruits might be heard calling to each 
other in vain what that meant, while the more careful and 
conscientious sought their officers for information, 
probably with as little success. 

Behind the house yonder stood the Colonel's quarters, 
I recall him vividly. A long, sinewy Dutchman, with 
hair and features after the irrepressible type of Israel. He 
wore great, baggy, white pantaloons, spurs, a blouse, and a 
little forage cap that was almost hidden in his crisp hair. 
He persisted in dragging at his heels on all occasions a 



12 

huge artillery sabre, which weapon, it was whispered, had 
cut off a score or two of heads in the German wars. The 
Colonel dashed into camp and out again, with mucli ado 
a dozen times a day, followed by two or three orderlies. 
His chief occupation during these visits seemed to be 
swilling beer and smoking jjipes with a few favorite sub- 
ordinates. Once only he shambled down among the 
native companies, but finding that his pompous military 
airs evoked only amusement, he quickly withdrew, and 
contented himself with holding special reviews of the 
German companies, and making speeches to them in his 
native language. 

As an impartial historian, however, I am bound to add 
that the Colonel was pleased — probably as a "sop to 
Cerberus " — to promote me to the non-commissioned" 
staff as Commissary Sergeant. I again open my diary: 

"As the Commissary is not yet appointed (the duties of 
the position being performed by the Quarter-master), he 
details me to act as his own secretary. He directs also that T 
put off the cumbrous regimentals in Avhicli I 2)resentedL 
myself, and resume my civil garb, until a new uniform, 
can be obtained from my tailor. He seems to have a- 
weakness for a w^ell-dressed staff, albeit shabby enough 
himself. Perhaps it is the contrast he likes ; it was so 
with Napoleon and Frederic. The cost of this new suit, 
he says, can be collected from Uncle Sam ; but a diligent 
search of the Regulations reveals to me no j)rovisions for 
such expenditure. 

"However, I obey. There is no questioning the com- 
mands of an old soldier who has chopped off heads in the 
German wars. ^ * "^ "^ ''■ 

" My first duty as secretary was to write a flaming letter- 
to the Quartermaster-General, demanding that horses be 
furnished this regiment immediately; receiving no replr 



13 

to which, I had much difficulty in dissuading the Colonel 
from a direct appeal to the President. * * 

'•The Commissary reports for duty. A most villainous 
looking Dutch Jew, with eyes like an alligator's. By 
order of the commander, I report at once to the new-comer 
who replies, softly and insinuatingly : 

" 'I dells you vot you do — I dells you.' 

"Thinking, therefore, that Iwas now relieved from duty 
at head-quarters, I took up my abode beside the Commis- 
sary's. Had not been moved fifteen minutes before the 
Colonel's sonorous accent was heard: 

"'Gommissary Sarchent ! Vare ees dot Sarchent of de 
Gommissary? ' 

"I repaired forthwith to the presence. His brow and 
Yoice were savage. 

"'Sarchent! You haf go away mitout leaf.' I pleaded 
my office, and his own orders to report to the Commissary. 
My fault was too evidently one of ignorance, and his 
ruffled spirit grew serene. 

"'You must keep mit me,^ he said, ' und let dot Gom- 
missary sent for you 1' 

"Whereupon I mentally sent the Commissary to the 
devil, and renewed allegiance to the chief." 

The summer weeks wore on. By and by the effect of 
discipline became apparent. The candidates for glory, 
having had their rotund garments skilfully tailored, and 
their faces bronzed by sunshine and storm, began to look 
like soldiers. The companies march like squads of 
automatons. The buglers wind their horns more musical- 
ly, and every call is obeyed promptly and without question. 
The drills and parades are splendid sights, crowding these 
fields and fences with spectators. 

At last, when camp life had grown so monotonous that 
the veriest skulker longed for activitv, orders came to move. 
2 



14 

The camp at once became a scene of uproar. Far into the 
night the Teutons yelled their songs of Faderland, the 
natives sang and fiddled national airs. Others scratched 
hasty notes to loved ones, or perchance stole out of camp 
for a farewell interview. 

Alas ! that four years' storm of woe — the falling of tears, 
the riving of hearts— had already burst upon thousands of 
homes. 

What imagination can compass the accumulated grief 
that had settled down at the firesides of this people when 
they emerged once more into peace? 

With the first gray of morning came the noise and 
confusion of tearing down and loading up, the braying of 
mules, the shouting of teamsters, the loud commands of 
excited officers. The regiment was formed with the left 
resting under that elm. Pockets, bundles, and haversacks 
were stuffed almost to bursting with the extra baggage 
bestowed by friends who meant to be kind. Cheer after 
cheer arose as the commander, resplendent in a new 
uniform, and soaked to the eyes in beer, dashed along the 
front, clanking with his spur the bloody sabre of the 
German wars, and followed by he of the alligator eyes and 
the full staffj including the "Sarchent of de Gommissary." 

In the heat of a mid-summer morning we marched ta 
the depot, whence the long train finally bore us away 
toward Washington, amid tears, and cheers, and smiles, 
and the waving of a thousand handkerchiefs. 

It is only fair to add, as a sequel to these recollections, 
that the Government soon found it advisable to dispense 
with our commander and his sword, njtwithstanding the 
latter's bloody record in the German wars ! 



II. 



The Guns of Antietam. 



Our detatchment came down from Carlisle to Chambers- 
burg, on the night of September 16th, 1862, and took up 
quarters in the stables of the Fair Grounds, about a mile 
from the town. I turned in with my bnnk-fellow* on a 
bundle of old hav, and we slept soundly until hunger 
aroused us at day-break. We had brought three days' 
rations in our haversacks ; but being still in^'God's country," 
we chose rather to turn up our noses at such fare, and seek 
elsewhere a more substantial meal. 

Putting ourselves, therefore, in as good trim as pocket- 
combs and glasses would permit, we shook out some of the 
dust from our regimentals, and started down the turnpike, 
with the design of stopping at the first inviting house. The 
east was glowing redly with tlie approaching sun; the 
morning air was dewy arid sharp; the early bird twittered 
among the bushes by the roadside, or perched for an instant 
upon the top rail of the fence, to swallow the proverbial 
worm. 

We passed several habitations that did not look inviting. 
One of them we approached, and my companion had laid 
his hand upon the latcli of the gate, when a savage growl 
echoed from the rear of the premises. Presently a huge 
white bull-dog, of the most surly species, flew up to the 



Wilbur Wiitts, Burliui^toii, N. J. 



16 

gate. But we were already some distance away, with an 
intuitive conviction that those people were not hospitable 
to the soldier. 

The next house was small, and of the old yellow plaster 
style, embowered in vines and evergreens of a halfcentury's 
growth. It looked attractive; but seeing no signs of life 
about the place, we would have passed it, had not there 
appeared from the recesses of a side porch an old man, 
leaning upon a cane, who beckoned us to approach. Only 
too glad to go, we were speedily beside him. 

"You are soldiers, boys," said he; "I'm always glad to 
see our soldiers. I was once a soldier myself. Have you 
had breakfast? or are you now on some important duty?" 

We assured the old gentleman that we could await 
breakfast without any neglect of duty. He seemed 
delighted, and led the way into the house, and would have 
put us forthwith into the parlor, but we persistently refused 
to invade its cleanliness and quiet. 

We seated ourselves in the kitchen. The old gentleman 
disappeared for a few minutes,returning with a young girl 
whom he presented as his grand-daughter. She was a 
round little body, with blonde hair, and a sweet flushed 
face. The grandfather apologized for the absence of his 
son and daughter (the girl's parents), who were visiting 
friends at Gettysburg. While the grand-daughter bustled 
alx)ut for breakfast, we talked to the veteran, who had 
meanwhile lighted his pipe. 

"You say you've been a soldier, Mr. Lyon — in 1812, I 



suppose 



?" 



" Yes in '12. It's a long time ago, and I'm growing very 
old." 

" How old, sir?" 

"Past seventy- three." 

" You bear it well, and bid fair to reach a century." 



17 

The old man shook his head. 

"Ah, no!" said he, "I can never do that — never." 

'' I hope at least," I said, "that you will live to see these 
rebels whipped back into the Union." 

fie smiled and took a long whifF. 

"Yes, I hope so, too, my dear boys, and I feel somehow 
or other that I will. I wish I could help you, but I can 
only give you my blessing." 

"Do you have a clear recollection of the scenes of your 
war?" asked Watts. 

"Pretty clear, pretty clear," said the veteran. 

We paused to give him an opportunity to narrate some 
of his experiences, and plied him with an additional 
question or two to draw him out; but he seemed disinclined 
to respond other than in monosyllables. Attributing hi& 
silence to modesty, or a desire not to be interrupted in the 
enjoyment of his pipe, we ceased to bother him. 

Breakfast being ready, we sat down to and discussed i* 
Avith a soldierly vigor that allowed of but little conversa- 
tion. Neither the old man nor his daughter sat down to 
table with us: the latter kept herself busy i-eplenishing our 
cups and plates, while the grandsire sat silently beside the 
window, puffing his pipe, and wondering, probably, at the 
extent of our appetites. * ■;<• -x- * 

We had finished the meal, and were about to rise 
from the table (first taking care to conceal under our 
plates the bills which our host refused to accept), when a 
faint sound, like that of distant thunder, reached us. Watts 
and I knew at once what it was. I looked at the veteran. 
He was shaking the ashes from his pipe — evidently the 
sound did not reach him. Soon another rumble followed 
more distinct than the first. 

" Do you hear that, Mr. Lyon ? " I asked. 

" Hear what, my son ? " 



18 

" The sound of battle," I replied, rising and pointing to 
the South. The words electrified him. 

"Why, no — you don't say that — really?" And the 
old soldier, bustling up from his chair, walked briskly to 
the door. Not hearing the sound immediately, we all 
went out with him to the gate. 

And now, plainly enough, the roar of distant guns came 
up in a succession of subdued reports. The veteran 
heard it. His eyes kindled amid the embers of age. 
" Dear me," he said, stepping back and forth, and bending 
forward to listen, " it has been fifty years since I heard 
that. It carries me back to Plattsburg, where the sound 
almost deafened me. Thunder was nothing to it. Ah 
me ! if I were -only younger — only ten years younger — 
I'd put on my coat of '12, and take my old musket, and 
go forth again under the old flag. I would, boys, I 
would r^ and the brave old fellow struck the ground 
emphatically with his cane. 

Another burst of artillery, louder than any that had 
preceded it, seemed to arouse the old gentleman anew. 

"That's it! that's it!" he cried excitedly, "give 'em 
another like that, as we did at Plattsburg." 

Turning to his daughter, who seemed rather apprehen- 
sive of the old man's excitement, he said quickly; "Run 
to the house, Anna — run girl, and bring me my coat and 
musket." Anna obeyed and the veteran continued: "I'm 
not so old, after all. I'll go with ye, boys ! Damn it, I'll 
go with ye! I'll see the flash, and hear the musketry, 
anyhow." 

He was pacing restlessly back and forth, striking the 
ground with his cane. 

"I'm afraid we can't see it, father Lyon," I said; "our 
command is not yet mounted, and the battle will be over 
before we could reach the field." 



19 

"That's too bad," he said, " too bad. "We needed every 
man at Plattsburg. Well, here's my coat — ray coat of 12, 
Now you'll see the old man become a soldier again. 
Hurry, hurry, girl." 

"Grandpapa," said Anna, as she approached with the 
coat, "your gun is too heavy for me to carry, so I left it." 

"Ah! true, true," said her grandsire, "I was cruel to 
ask it of you. Perhaps I could not handle it myself." 

She gave us a sly wink, as she said this, from which we 
inferred that other reasons had induced her to leave it. 

" Never mind it ; I'll put on my coat. Here," — he said, 
giving me his cane, while Watts took his coat. The 
latter was of faded dark blue cloth, with worsted epaulets 
and trimmings, and metal buttons— a genuine old re- 
gimental. He was assisted to get into it — not a difficult- 
operation, by any means, for it lapped over and hung 
loosely about his spare form. "Ah! boys," he said, "I 
used to fill this out roundly." Having buttoned his coat 
from chin to waist, we stepped off and removed our hats 
to the veteran. He appreciated the compliment, smiling 
with evident delight, and said: 

"Come now, lads, I'll be your Captain — I'll lead you." 
He flourished his cane, and gave us some tactical com- 
mands, which we executed promptly, to his great delight. 

All this while the thunder of the distant conflict was 
plainly audible, and the old soldier would relapse into 
silence every moment or two to listen. Then, supported on 
either side by a trooper, whom he entertained with volu- 
ble recollections of the past, this veteran of our second 
war of independence marched feebly but proudly up and 
down the path to the sound of his country's third life- 
struggle. The scene was sublime. Needless to say, our 
patriotism was newly and deeply stirred. 



20 

Bat we were alreiidy overdue at ciiinj), and reluctantly 
Inirried away. Tlie good old man waved a farewell to us 
with his cane as far as he could see us. We did not ex- 
pect to see him again ; but as no marching orders came 
during the day, we v*entured to return after nightfall, to 
tell him the news. The excitement of the morning had 
reacted upon the brave old fellow. We found him, help- 
less and feeble, stretched upon a settee. 

But he was still enveloped in his coat of '12, and his eye 
grew bright again as we detailed to his wondering ear the 
first crude accounts of the great battle of Antietam : how 
Hooker Avas borne bleeding from the field — how Burnside's 
men stormed the bridge; and especially did we dwell in 
sadness upon the fall of our own brave young Stockton — 
the first mortal sacrifice which the cause had yet exacted 
from our command. 



III. 

Rough Riding in JKentucky. 

A Pleasanter five days' trip was never enjoyed than 
ours from Louisville to Bowling Green. The weather 
was delightful — those early winter days of the South, so 
full of sun-shine and breeze, and the clear frosty nights, 
that made double blankets agreeable. 

Our regiment numbered nearly a thousand men, newly 
clothed, equipped, and mounted, and gloried in its 
strength. The ubiquitous Morganwas known to beskulking 
in the country adjacent to oar line of march, and although 
his force was double ours, not a man of us but longed to 
fall in with the famous raider. 

But we had not that pleasure. Morgan never fought 
unless he had every chance in his favor, and even then, 
as many of his bold troopers will acknowledge, he often 
got handsomely whipped. 

We arrived at Bowling Green on the afternoon of a 
beautiful Sunday in December. Our camp was located on 
the grounds of a wealthy rebel in the southern edge of the 
town. The wealthy rebel was still at home enjoying his 
comforts, and, as it soon appeared, his privileges. For 
just as tin cups and regimental pots were simmering over 
the fire=!, up dashed an orderly, with a command from 
General William Sooy Smith, to vacate the premises forth- 
with. We were polluting soil which had been consecrated 
to the Confederacy. There was no help for it. It was then 

3 



22 

the policy to make polite concessions to the rebels of local 
prominence as an acknowledgment of their chivalry. 
Especially was this so with certain young and lofty 
Brigadiers, to whom the favor of a rich rebel skinflint, or 
the treacherous smiles of his pretty daughter, were more 
welcome than the cheers of the soldiers. There was some 
"tall" swearing done by the boys when the order was 
promulgated. Major Rosengarten, in deference to their 
fierce expressions, delayed moving until morning, it being 
then nearly dark, and to search for and get settled into a 
new camp, would have taken us far into the night. The 
troopers blessed the Major; but, as it will appear, would 
have fared better if the move had been made at once. 

Morning came and with it the breaking up. The sky 
was ominously leaden and heavy at daybreak, but no one 
thought of anything beyond a shower. Tents were soon 
down, wagons loaded and sent off, horses saddled. As we 
mounted the rain began to fall in big drops, and when we 
were got half way through the town, the flood-gates of 
Heaven opened upon us the most terrific rain-storm that 
I ever beheld. Faster and faster, heavier and heavier, it 
came, accoippanied by blasts of wind that threatened to 
sweep both horses and men away. Rubber coats and 
talmas were of little avail. Bootlegs overflowed with 
water. The streets of the town became creeks and rapids ; 
and when we had labored through theui and got beyond 
the place, the prospect seemed more dreary and hopelesa 
than ever. Slowly and wretchedly we toiled on through 
the flood and gusts, crossing swollen streams with the 
water over our stirrups, and the currents dangerously 
strong. Our poor animals were barely able to get along. 
We were to seek and occupy a camp in this storm ! Where 
it was to be no one knew, not even the commanding oflicer. 
Hour after hour we labored on, and still the rain beat 



28 

down. Would it nerer cease? In vain we glanced up from 
under our dripping visors to catch perchance some sign of 
a break in the dark sky. Al. Eilil grimly observed that 
something certainly was broken up there ! The soldier's 
discomfort is seldom too great for a joke. 

It must have been about the middle of the afternoon 
when our wagons loomed up dimly through the rain. 
Reaching the spot we found them up to the hubs in a field 
of mud. The tents and baggage had been vmloaded and 
lay scarcely distinguishable in the mire. 

"Is this our camping ground?" was the incredulous and 
indignant question. 

The answer soon came in an order to dismount. 

The Major now come in for a hearty cursing, as had the 
Brigadier before him. The boys thought it a pitiful 
exercise of judgment to select so palpable a mud-hole for 
a camp in a region where high, hard ground was plentiful.''^ 

But we went sullenly to work. Night was fast approach- 
ing, and the rain — the relentless rain — still fell. It was 
long after night-fall when the last shelter was np. But 
our miseries were only intensified by the night. There 
was nothing to eat that was not soaked and sodden ; ^no 
lights, no wood that would kindle. There was also but 
little food and less of other comfort for the horses, who 
pawed impatiently, often neighing piteously, all through 
the cold, drenching night, immersed half way to their 
knees in water. 

There was nothing to do but to squat upon our saddles, 
shivering and dozing, while the water and mud ran in 



*HoAv mary soldiers of the Army of the Cumberland have explained 
to themselves this standing mystery: Why regimental and brigade 
commanders would so persistently and cruelly fix their camps and 
bivouacs — in dry weather, as remote as possible from wood and water, 
in wet reather, plumply in a mud-hole? 



24 

streams under us and over our feet. It was our first bitter 
experience in the field, and later ones were never worse. 
Scores of us were laid up in the hospitals for months, and 
Bome, alas, never came out of them alive. 

Morning found us soaked and stifi^, ravenous for nourish^ 
ment. The storm had ceased, and a cold north-wind was 
crusting the liquid earth, and drying up the pools. In 
the distance, apparently not a mile away, were the spires 
and chimneys of Bowling Green, and nearer still we 
recognized the mansion of the wealthy rebel, whose land 
we had polluted. In our blind-search for a camping ground, 
we had, it seemed, innocently marched in a circle around 
the toAvn, halting at last near the original starting point I 
Of course this fact added greatly to our serenity and 
satisfaction. 

We now transferred our efiects once more a short distance 
nearer the town, on elevated ground thinly belted with 
cedars. 

What a relief it was ! How delicious was the odor of 
the coffee at breakfast, of the bean soup at dinner ! The 
sunshine had never before seemed so lovely. The long 
lines of clothing which we hung up to dry, would have 
conveyed to a housewife the idea that ours was a camp of 
washerwomen. The poor beasts, too, were not forgotten. 
How they relished the corn and oats which we poured 
into their nosebags ! My own little " Shiloh " frisked his 
tail and winked his big dark eyes with the pleasure of 
mastication. 

But these comforts were not to continue long uninter- 
rupted. In the midst of the coffee and hard -tack of 
supper, lo ! a courier with more orders. The boys looked 
significantly at each other. Had we again unwittingly 
trampled upon sacred ground ? 



25 

The courier (one of us) was stopped on his way out of 
camp, and informed us that John Morgan was at Glasgow, 
forty miles away, and that we were to make a night march 
thither to surprise him. 

Those of us who were to go were, therefore, prepared 
for tlie order which soon came: 

" Two days' rations, boots and saddles in half an hour." 

We started, four hundred strong, at sunset. 

"The moon was up— by lieaveu, a lovely eve! " 

But it was also very cold, and the wetting which most of 
us got in crossing the Big Barron, rendered our ride 
doubly uncomfortable. The winds which had pi evailed 
all day had measurably dried up the roads. We followed 
the Louisville pike for about ten miles, then turned east- 
ward, crossing the Louisville and Nashville rail-road near 
Bristow's station. As we crossed the track the head-light 
of a locomotive was seen dwindling away in the southern 
darkness. It afterwards transpired that a freight train, 
bound North, had stopped at or near the station for some 
purpose, when the alert ear of the conductor caught the 
tramp of cavalry from the turnpike on his left. Believing 
that Morgan — who was daily looked for at all points of 
the line— was now really upon him, he reversed his engine 
and got away with all speed to Bowling Green. His scare 
■was communicated to the garrison, which turned out en 
masse for the expected foe. 

After several hours brisk riding, the road trending away 
nearly due south, we turned sharply to the east again into 
another road — and certainly one of the mast extraordinary 
and uncomfortable by-ways ever traversed by mounted men. 

Scarcely two yards in width, it led for many miles 
through forests so dense that not a ray of moonlight could 
penetrate them. The trees seemed twisted into all manner 



26 

of shapes, and the limbs projected across the road at every 
angle. It was with the utmost difficulty that one could 
keep his seat. Hats were knocked off and scalps were 
grazed. The tall fellows caught it right and left, and 
several were fairly unhorsed. The guide at the head of the 
column sung out incessantly "down," "down!" as an 
admonition to those behind to dodge a projecting bough. 
The warning passed in an endless chorus along the column, 
but its very frequency defeated its kindness. For several 
hours we traveled in this manner, a squadron of in- 
voluntary hump-backs, every moment adding to the 
number of the hatles.=, braised, and bloody. Then, beneath 
us were pitfalls, and mud-holes of unknown depth, and 
corduroys tumbled and broken, with many of the timbers 
sticking upright in the mud. 

Travel over such ground was difficult and dangerous, 
speed impossible. It was far past midnight when we got 
clear of the woods, and halted at a plantation a mile or 
two beyond. 

The place was deserted, except by a few negroes, who 
came out shyly, rubbing their eyes and doubting whether 
we were rebels or Yankees. Throwing out videttes, the 
command dismounted in the road, and built fires. Some 
warmed themselves with a hasty cup of coffee, and 
discussed the mishaps of the night, and the chances of a 
fight in the morning; while others, with their feet to the 
fires, slept the time away. The country about us seemed 
indescribably desolate: rugged and wooded and wild, with 
habitations few and far between. It had felt the tread of 
hostile armies only a few months previous, when the great 
Don Carlos was so handsomely, and perhaps willingly — 

" Let! by the nose, as asset- lire.'' 



27 

After resting for some time, we quietly moved on again. 
The morning was piercingly cold. Day-break found us 
still winding along in close column. The sun was deliorht- 
ful to our bodies, chilled by the frost of night, and to our 
eyes, weary of the monotonous gloom of forest, stream and 
road. 

About a mile from Glasgow the advanced guard was re- 
inforced and flankers thrown out — for it was not doubted 
that the wily John was but a little way before us. 

Every ear was alert to catch the crack of carbines. But 
none came. The advance had now reached the top 
of a hill, at the base of which lay the town, and halted to 
reconnoitre. Developing nothing, our major, supposing 
that Morgan had drawn in his outposts and was awaiting 
us in the town, again reinforced the advance and ordered 
it to charge. Carbines were dropped, and sabres drawn — 
reins were tightly clutched — every man gathered his 
breath — for this was our maiden charge ! 

At the word, down the sloping road we trotted — a motley 
troop of bruised and clouted cavaliers — breaking soon into 
a gallop, and clattering with wild shouts into tlie square 
of the town. 

The women and children, and old men, hurried to their 
doors — but still no shots! Parties were dispatched all 
over the place, but no armed foe appeared. 

The major now arrived with the main column, and 
condescended to ask the Glasgowans, where was Morgan ? 
"He'd been thar a yar ago," they said : " didn't know any- 
thing 'bout him now." 

To say that we were chagrined and crest-fallen to have 
our rough ride and valiant charge turn out so tamely, 
would be saying only the truth. Some of the knowing 
ones declared that the whole adventure was a scheme to 



28 

discipline our greenness, and get us into trim for real 
work further South. 

But this theory was soon unsettled; for upon looking 
about the place, we discovered that Morgan's, or some 
other mounted force, had been there only a short time 
previous, as evidenced by many fresh horse-tracks and 
remnants of feed for man and beast, dispersed about in a 
method peculiar to cavalry. 

With this crumb of comfort — the probable flight of 
Morgan at our approach — we turned our faces toward the 
southwest again. It was a cold and weary ride back 
over the country, by a d liferent but no less difficult or 
desolate route, at one time getting lost and groping about 
for hours in the woods. Night had again settled around us 
ere the welcome hail of the picket ushered us once more 
to the comforts of camp. 



IV. 

Down into Tennessee. 

A WEEK of rest and quiet at Bowling Green, and then 
we packed up for another long, but withal a pleasant ride, 
down into Tennessee. Our route was far more interesting 
and exciting than the march from Louisville. The 
country became more desolate as we advanced, and showed 
more recent marks of the presence of armies. Besides, 
Morgan was still skulking about, and we hoped that he 
might run against us accidentally — which did not happen,, 
however. 

Then, too, we had the mountains to cross. Tlie southern- 
portion of Kentucky is traversed by a spur of the Cumber- 
land range, over which the highway leads into Tennessee. 
It was laborious work to transport the trains over these 
mountain roads. The way frequently leads alone: narrow 
ledges of rock, while chasms of unknown depth gape 
hideously around. Any restiveness or insubordination in 
a team might have plunged wagon and all over the pre- 
cipice. At such places it was the custom to dismount the 
train-guards and string them out along the brink to keep 
the mules from approaching too near. Then there were 
gulleys and ravines to jolt through, and steep declivities 
to scale, requiring stout shoulders at the wheels. 

But we crossed in one day without accident, and 
bivouaced for the night in a beautiful blue-grass field, un- 
der the shadow of the mountain. At noon of the next 



30 

day we passed a perpendicular shaft of gray stone, about 
the size of a horse post, standing in the centre of the road, 
and — entered Tennessee. 

There was something romantic in touching the soil of 
the old State. From our boyhood days the name had been 
embalmed in the songs of slavery and the stories of the 
border. To our imagination it was still in transition from 
the barbarous to the civilized— partly the haunt of the 
savage and the pioneer, as well as the. home of the planter 
and his gang of happy slaves. One voice among us struck 
up the dirge of the poor old slave that went to rest 'way 
down in Tennessee; the sentiment was infectious, and in a 
moment more nearly the whole column was joining in the 
strain. The chorus gathered in volume, and rolled back 
in prolonged echoes from the mountains behind us, pro- 
ducing a remarkable, if not musical, effect. It seemed like 
the requiem of Slavery, then within a few days of dis 
solution. 

The appearance of the country was now visibly changed. 
Beautiful, rolling land stretched away on every side, so 
unlike the rough hills and dead levels of Kentucky. But 
it was mournfully desolate. Houses along the road were, 
for the most part, deserted ; and where they were not, only 
a few women and children appeared, staring in wondering 
silence at the passing Yankees. One village through 
which we passed was entirely uninhabited; houses and 
stores were open but empty; not a living thing was seen 
in the place. The fences along the road were stripped 
away, leaving only scattered heaps of black ashes and 
charred rails, around which had gathered in turn the 
Federals and Confederates. 

On the evening of December 23 we arrived, tired with 
a day's brisk riding, at Tyree Springs in Sumner County, 
about twenty miles from Nashville. It was a lovely place, 



31 

and before the war had been a favorite resort of the 
wealth and beauty of the south. The hotel was an immense 
structure, of wood, light and graceful, with verandahs 
from the foundation to the roof. Around the building 
clustered a beautiful wood, and down in a romantic hollow 
bubbled the Springs. Passing the place at sunset, there 
was no person visible, no doors or windows open, no sign 
or sound of life in the neighborhood. The unnatural 
loneliness of the spot was impressive and ominous. 

We went into camp about half a mile further south, at 
the base of a slope that hid the buildings from view. Just 
after dark, in the midst of our horse-feeding and coffee- 
boiling, a bright reflection was observed over the trees in 
the direction of the Springs. The light rapidly increased 
in intensity and compass until the whole northern sky was 
illuminated. Soon the huge columns of smoke that began 
to roll up above the v;oods, 

"With gloomy splendor red," 

confirmed too truly our fears that the hotel was on fire» 
From our picket-post at the top of the hill a sublime and 
terrible sight was presented. The immense building was 
wrapped in great sheets of flame, which forked wildly out 
from the Avindows and curled above the roof. It burned 
up with frightful rapidity. In less than an hour from the 
beginning the whole burning mass collapsed with a crash 
that shook the woods around, and sent great volumes of 
flame and smoke far up into the heavens. 

The immensity of the structure, its elevated position 
the gloomy and oppressive silence of the surroundings, 
and — more than all— the mysterious origin of the fire, 
combined to make a startling picture of war. 

The Southern papers complained with just bitterness of 
the destruction of this place, but attributed it, of course, 



32 

4.0 Yankee vandalism. All I can say is that we had no 
hand in it, and that if our search of the neighborhood 
had succeeded in unearthing the incendiary, there would 
have been meted out to him a summary punishment. 

Another day's slow march ensued, winding through 
bodies of infantry, interminable wagon-trains, and other 
evidences of proximity to the army. 

At four o'clock we discerned through the dusty air the 
high walls and chimneys of the Kock City — and over all 
the dome of the Capitol — looming up grandly in the sun- 
light on the bluffs of the Cumberland. Passing through 
the pleasant suburb of Edgefield, we halted on the steep 
xiver-bank, to await the passage of a wagon-train over the 
pontoons. Before us were the remains of the suspension 
bridge destroyed by Bragg after the fall of Donelson. The 
wires still dangled from the abutments, and dipped into 
the river — a melancholy sight. Further down was the 
rail-road bridge, which had also been partly destroyed by 
Bragg, but was now repaired and in use by the Government. 

We sat our horses impatiently until the stars came out; 
■then, at six o'clock on Christmas eve, following the last 
wagon over the boat bridge, we scaled the steep south-bank 
and entered the city. 

Inspiriting change ! The streets were quiet and yet there 
was enough bustle and light and life, to make it seem like 
liome to us, who had been a month in the wilderness. The 
very horses seemed to breathe new spirit as their hoofs 
touched the novelty of a paved street. We halted a few 
moments, during which the cake shops in the vicinity were 
hurriedly bought out by the hard-tacked troopers, to whom 
a gingerbread, howsoever musty and stale, was a luxury 
far above the steepest price that could be put upon it. 

But we moved on again, clattering through the long 
treets, out into the southern suburbs, the lights and stir of 



33 

the city sinking away into the gloom behind us. Turning 
off to the right at the end of College Street, we bivouaced 
on a slight eminence, grassy and wooded. 

All around us was the buz of camps, and the horizon 
was aglow with a circle of innumerable fires, about which 
were gathered the fiftv thousand soldiers of Kosecrans 
whom he had ordered to move on the 26tli. The soldiers 
were celebrating the morrow with illuminations and 
amusements; and were jubilant, too, over the prospect of 
closing again with their old enemy on familiar ground — 
a new-born confidence, developed already by the genius of 
their new leader. 

Our coming was hailed with congratulations from the 
neighboring regiments upon liaving arrived "just in time 
for the fight." 



V. 

The ^tone Riyer -Holidays. 

I SHALL never forget the raelanclioly sweetness of the 
reveille as sounded by bugler Murdoch on that morning 
after Christmas, eighteen hundred and sixty-two- 
Christmas-day, raw, damp, and disagreeable, had been 
depressing to the spirits, and the order to move, coming 
just after our five days' ride from Kentucky, had put us in 
no very good humor ; added to which was a defection in oUf 
camp, six hundred men refusing to march: why and where 
fore, I purpose not to say here. 

Upon the whole, it was a melancholy regiment ; and 
when the strains of Murdoch's bugle, touched with an 
eloquence which only he could give, floated over the camp^ 
they were in sad unison with, and helped to deepen, the 
general gloom. Ere the notes had died away I pulled 
aside the flap of my tent, and looked out. The sky was 
dark and solemn, the camp still silent. But one person 
was visible — Major Rosengarten, full-dressed, standing 
before his tent. He looked pale and handsome, and seemed 
to be listening to the last echoes of the reveille. Was it the 
voice of Fate, speaking to him in those dying notes, that 
paled his cheek and fixed his eye so vacantly ? 

The morning was damp and cheerless. Rain set in early 
— a hard, cold rain, which continued throughout that day 
and the next. The troops that had encircled us were 
already miles on the march. Nothing remained but the 



forlorn an<l dripping c/eir/.s of the camprt, and an occasional 
straggler searching in the ruins for plunder. We were the 
only regiment left to follow ; and those of ns who desired to 
go — say three hundred men — assembled by 8.V o'clock 
under the command of Majors Rosengarten and Ward. 

An hour's trot on the Nolensville pike brought ns up to 
the rear divisions of McCook, plodding merrily along in 
the rain and mud, joking betimes, and filing aside to allow 
our cavalcade to pass — not without remark, of course, for 
your "dough-boy" seldom looses an opportunity to gibe 
at his mounted comrade. Said one tired fellow, as he 
splashed along : 

"Here comes these jockey-soldiers, ridin' over us ; soft 
thing tli^y have of it " 

His remark was greeted with many approving comments. 

" Bah ! " growled an old sergeant, who had evidently seen 
both arms of the service, "it's not so soft as it seems, 
Charley. A fellow's got enough to do to take care of him- 
self in a campaign like this, without bavin' a horse to look 
to. Besides, when the fightin's over there's no rest for the 
trooper ; he's got to go it always. Tell ye boys," continued 
the veteran, elevating his voice, " let them be cavalry that 
wants to be, I'd rather march this way and fight this 
way." •* 

This reassured the discontented ones, for the man was 
evidently the oracle of his company. 

A little further on we overtook the artillery, Edgarton's 
and Goodspeed's Ohio batteries— splendid organizations, 
already famed for their services under the lamented 
Mitchell. Edgarlon was chief of artillery for Johnson's 
division, and rode proudly at the head of his guns, little 
dreaming that a few days hence would find them in the 
hands of Hardee, while he and his men would be hurried 
to a prison-pen in the heart of Dixie. 



36 

Thus on hour after hour. The rain continueil to fall, 
the mud to deepen. There were frequent halts to await 
the clearing away of rebel skirnaishers, and other obstruc- 
tions. Fur away to the left we could hear occasionly the 
faint patter of musketry, and the booming of heavier 
weapons, proving that Crittenden's men were at work. 

The day waned rapidly under the leaden sky. At night- 
fall the rain respited us for an hour or so, and we turned 
off into a soaked field to bivouac, but had scarcely dis- 
mounted w^lien the bugle again sounded to horse. Then 
out on the pike again, groping through the mud and 
darkness for several miles, until a house or two loomed 
up before us, and lights flickered through the windows. 

It was Nolensville. 

A. short halt at the head-quarters of General Johnson 
resulted in moving us to a wet clover field near by. Therein 
stood two huge hay-stacks, which in five minutes were not 
so huge by a good deal Our horses were unbridled, and 
gorged themselves on hay; while their mas^ters, swallowing 
rain-soaked ''tack," and lying crowdedly aro'md the few 
small fires that were allowed, rested tolerably, notwithstand- 
ing an occasional sharp shower during the night. 
At three o'clock on Saturday morning, the 27th December, 
we were aroused quietly by the orderlies. The morning 
was uncomfortably sharp, and a thick fog covered every- 
thing. Bridling up, we gathered silently around the 
smouldering embers of the fires. There was in every man 
an instinctive consciousness of being near " the front," that 
mysterious and eventful region so often referred to in the 
prints, and in the rear camps. There was no room to doubt 
it now. Evidently we had reached McCook's advance, and 
were about to lead it. The front ! the rebels ! under fire ! 
These experiences, so long heard and read of and hoped 
for, were now at last to try our maiden courage. 



37 

What rousing letters we would write liome, descriptive of 
charge, of hair-breadth 'scape, of victory ! 

But alas ! who should survive to write them ? Who no\T 
living of that martial group that gazed so abstractedly into 
the cinders, but will recall the manly figures and brave 
faces of those who never wrote their share of the campaign 
that followed ? 

As soon as it was light enough to see a little way into 
the fog, Ave rode through the town and out the pike toward 
Triune, halting at a little log-house that stood on elevated 
ground, and commanded a view of some bold hills beyond. 
While we were peering through the mist, endeavoring to 
see something of the " front," there emerged from the log- 
house a portly, pleasant-faced General officer— R. W. 
Johnson, whose division occupied Nolensville. The 
General stood awhile talking with Major Rosengarten ; 
and from his gesture^, and an occasional word caught, we 
now became satisfied that those hills, barely discernible 
. through the fog, were held by the enemy's out-posts, and 
that there our first fight was to be. 

So it proved. Our little command was divided into two 
equal squadron^, one to advance directly along the pike 
to Triune, the other to dislodge and push the rebels from 
the hills that skirted eastward from the road. This latter 
duty fell to Major W^ard's party, which I follow. 

Starting in advance of the other squadron, we moved 
down the road at a brisk trot. At the same time the fog 
lifted considerably, giving us a clearer view of the field. 
A short distance out we passed the infantry pickets, who 
hailed us with with such words as "go for 'em boys!" "give 
'em thunder!" etc. (I say thunder, but that was not the 
precise word used.) 

Reaching a fxvorable point, the Major ordered the fence 
on the left of the road to be taken down, which was done 



38 

in a twinkling. Our party then filed over into a meadow, 
soft and miry, difficult to traverse — so much so that several 
horses were unable to keep up. We floundered through 
as fast as possible, skirted a cornfield, swept up a hill 
through a belt of timber, and descended into a wooded 
hollow, right under the enemy's position on the ridge. The 
column had not all entered the hollow, when hang — hang, 
zip — zip, came the rebel greeting. There was an immediate 
and general scattering to seek the protection of trees. We 
listened to the bullets until the novelty of their sound wore 
away, and then some attempt was made under our cover 
to return the enemy's fire ; but the most careful scrutiny 
of the wooded heights above us failed to discover a foe, 

"By George, Barney," whispered my mess-mate, Watts, 
"I see a gray back nov/; look! up there behind that short 
oak — he's stooping down. D— n him I I'll fetch him" 
— and while I watched the object. Watts carefully poised 
his carbine, and fired. The rebel did not move. I also 
fired ; the smoke cleared away, but there still stooped the 
supposed gray-back. 

"Thunder!" exclaimed my comrade, in disgust," its only 
a stump." 

And so we kept pegging away at stumps, under the 
impression that it was the soldier's duty to burn as many 
cartridges as possible. But the rebel bullets still came 
cutting through the tree tops, dropping the twigs and leaves. 

The sound had become familiar, and as none of us had 
yet been hurt, we were slow to appreciate the danger of our 
situation. Now, however, a new peril appeared. Our 
virgin ears were startled by the roar of a field-piece from 
the unseen heights before us, and with a horrible whir-r-r, 
a rifled shot came plunging through the trees, and buried 
itself directly in front of my horse. Little "Shiloh" 
jumped back and trembled, as well he might. Hastily 



39 

forming a line along the northern slope of the hollow, it 
was our Major's intention to charge up the declivity; but 
the line was not fairly completed before another deadly 
missile came crashing toward ns, and, but for a ptout tree 
that stopped its career, would have made sad havoc in our 
ranks. At the same time a trooper Avho had been sent 
forward to reconnoitre returned and reported that a charge 
would be impossible. It was plain that we must go at them 
by some other way. 

Withdrawing from the hollow in good order, we struck 
a bee line, eastward, across the fields, to a point near the 
house of a Mr. Copeland, where the rfdge before us was 
much less difficult of ascent. Here we formed a double 
line of battle, with skirmishers, and in that manner 
advanced resolutely over the hills, encountering no enemy. 

They had withdrawn, hastened by the gallant charge of 
Eosengarten's squadron on the turnpike, the firing of which 
we had heard. Evidences of recent rebel presence met us 
at every step. Raw pork and meal, soaked in the rain ; 
scattered corn, and embers emittingtheir last feeble smoke 
— these remains of the enemy were highly interesting to us 
green troops. One sanguine youth dismounted and secured 
an old bayonet scabbard, which he no doubt still preserves 
as a relic of his first battle field. 

The rain now began to fall again. It would be hard to 
depict the extreme discomforts of that march. Hour after 
hour the rain fell heavily, with brief pauses, which were 
filled by a cold, cutting wind. Still we toiled on through 
the sodden fields, halting occasionly to reform our line 
when the nature of the ground broke it up. 

We stopped at a large plantation house, fronting on a 
SAVollen creek. One of the horses had given out, and the 
rider must find another, or be left in the rear. I was 
ordered back with him to find a remount; so, loading the 



40 

extra accoutrements on Sliiloh, we started. It was an 
unwelcome task to toil back over those miry fieUls, know- 
ing that the same ground must be traversed a third time 
in rejoining the command. 

In an hour or so we reached Copeland's house, but (as 
vre had expected) found his barn empty. An old negro 
man, the sole occupant of the premises, informed us that 
the master had sold his stock to the Confederates, and had 
gone off with them himself. The honest old fellow softened 
onr disappointment admirably by filling our canteens with 
a capital article of applejack, and our haversacks with 
corn bread. 

The horseless trooper, full of an energy imbibed from 
his canteen, shouldered his equipments, saddle and all, 
and set out for Nolensville, two miles distant; while I, 
shaking the generous black hand of our friend, turned my 
face once more to the front. Before riding away I took 
occasion to tell the negro that in a few days, on the first of 
the year, he would be a free man, and explained to him 
briefly the proclamation of President Lincoln. The 
innocent old soul regarded me all the while with a look of 
amused incredulity. He thought, no,doubt, that under the 
influence of applejack I was endeavoring to perpetrate a 
grave joke upon him. Subsequently I learned with 
satisfaction that this man had fully realized the truth of 
my statements by becoming a soldier in tlie service of tli© 
United States. 

Shiloh labored gallantly through the tough fields and 
driving rain, to the brick house where I had left the 
column. But the latter had gone. I followed the tracks 
over the creek for a mile, until they led me into a cedar- 
wood, where all trace disappeared. I was lost! 

It was now near night-fall, rendered earlier by the cloud- 
ed hcAvens. The prospect was uncomfortable. Should I 



41 

plunge blindly forward, or await daylight there ? In either 
•case it was possible to fall into tlie enemy's hands. 

The instinct of a brute is often sharper than human wit. 
The thought flashed upon me, and I resolved to trust to the 
dumb sagacity of my little horse. Loosing his rein, I 
gave him the spur-, expecting that he would start off into 
the woods. Imagine my consternation when he stretched 
out his necli to nose the way, and turned abruptly to the 
rear again, out of the cedars! My faith in animal instinct 
wavered. I was about to turn him back again, having no 
idea of retreating, when he suddenly changed his course 
in another direction. 

Two hours after I learned to ray admiration that the com- 
mand had actually entered the cedar woods and turned out 
again, taking the precise route followed by»my horse. 

It was a long, dark, and toilsome tramp. More than once 
I dismounted to ease the animal, intending to keep him 
company on foot ; but the faithful beast would not stir un- 
less I remained on his back. 

Thus on, long after dark. How well I remember, when 
at length I emerged upon a hard road, and saw the welcome 
glimmer of camp fires in the distance ! Riding up along 
a wooded ridge, I was brought to a stand by the hail of a 
picket. He passed me safely, but, I thought, reluctlantly, 
as I was unable to give him the " chaw of tobacker " which 
he requested. 

In a low field, immediately on the right, a few fires 
were glimmering, and figures of men and horses moved 
darkly about. Familiar voices came out of the gloom, 
and [ knew that my comrades were there. Watts greeted 
me with a hurrah and a cup of coffee. Shiloh was unsad- 
dled and made as comfortable as possible. The rain had 
mercifully ceased, but a slight snow had fallen — a most 
unpleasant niglit. Sleep, '' sore labor's bath," came gen-p 



42 

erously to our weary bodies ; and when the bugle aroused 
us once more, we found the sabbath breaking clearly over- 
head, and the long- imprisoned stars, having peeped out 
before the dawn, were fainting away at the sun's approach. 

There was a sharp rattle of musketry just ahead, the 
morning greeting of the pickets, but it soon died away. 

What a quiet, beautiful Sunday it wa=?, after the previous 
two days of gloom ! We were in the vicinity of Triune^ 
whence Hardee had retreated the previous evening. The 
brigade of infantry across the road from us packed up 
early and were off somewhere before we had saddled. 
There appeared to be no hurry for us. We made coffee 
and toasted pork at our leisure. The sun was two hours 
high before we mounted and moved slowly down the road. 
Even then there was no purpose apparent in our march. 
It began to be whispered about that the army would rest 
that day, and the knowing ones assured us that "Old Rosey'^ 
was a strict observer of the Sabbath, and would not willing- 
ly desecrate it by the shedding of blood. 

A little way south of the town we dismounted in a grove, 
and stretched ourselves out upon the strewn leaves. How 
quiet was everything and everybody! The genial noon-day 
sun was rapidly warming the tired troopers into slumber^ 
when lol a courier from head-quarters, with the regimental 
mail. 

It was our first since leaving Bowling Green, and for 
awhile there was a lively scene. The son, the brother, 
the lover, the husband, there on the eve of battle, greedily 
devoured the dear messages from those who, with anxious 
and tearful hearts, would await reply — many, alas, still 
waiting ! Groups were gathered about tlie few who had 
received newspapers — the Press and Tribune a fortnight 
old — telling how Burnside had failed at Fredericksburg. 
A few isolated themselves to writ 3 up their diaries, or to 
pencil hasty replies to letters. 



43 

"Mount!" 

The command came, swift and sadden, without warning. 
Letters and papers were hastily crammed away. The 
woods echoed with the jingle of sabres and the stirring of 
leaves as we mounted and trotted off down the road, across 
a deep creek— the bridge over which had been destroyed 
by the rebels the night before— altogether a distance of 
three miles, halting at the house of a Mr. Pett. It was a 
pleasant place, surrounded by orchards and corn-fields. 
We were on the road to Eagleville, by which Hardee had 
retreated, and it was suspected that his scouts were in the 
neighborhood, making Pett's house their head-quarters. 
On the porch stood two young ladies, with whom our Majors 
talked politely. But the girls were spirited Confederates, 
and did not appreciate Yankee civility. One of them 
displayed a pocket pistol, with which she threatened to 
blow out the brcTins of one of our officers who had presumed 
to address her. The premises were searched, but the girls 
were apparently the only occupants. 

After listening awhile to their unwomanly bluster we 
returned to the creek. Toward sunset, however, another 
alarm was given, and we again dashed forward to. the 
place. This time the house and surroundings underwent 
a thorough scrutiny, the ladies all the while threatening 
terrible vengeance. 

''Mark my woids," exclaimed she of the pistol, "you 
cowardly Yankees will go flying back to Nashville to- 
morrow quicker than you came — though I hope to 
Heaven"— here she raised her clenched fist — "that not 
one of you will live to reach there." 

The lady was not naturally pretty, but the dramatic 
excitement of the speech gave color to her cheek and fire 
to her eye; while her earnest boldness commanded our 
respect. Not a few brutes among us, however, allowed 



44 

their low instincts to triumph in derisive laughter. Her 
wish, alas! was partly fulfilled, as will duly appear. 

Finding no secreted enemies in the house, we at sunset 
fell back again to the creek, and prepared to picket it for 
the night. A line of posts was established, extending 
from the junction of two roads on our left, to the Triune 
pike on our right, a distance of over a rnile. The party 
with which I was detailed took post at the ford, near the 
remains of the bridge, our videttes being doubled and 
thrown across the ford a score of yards toward Pett's, 
commanding a view of the road as far as his house. 

The night was frosty and moonliglit. Watts and I went 
out on post for the last time at 4 o'clock on Monday morn- 
ing— just the time, from that to daylight, when attacks on 
outposts are usually made. As we were holding the ex- 
treme right of the army, it was probable that the enemy's 
cavalry would be on the alert to develope our position. 
We were therefore instructed to be very vigilant. 

The first hour passed away in silence — the next was the 
most dangerous. Our eyes were kept fixed upon the road 
by Pett's house, for at that point we expected every minute 
to see the foe start up darkly against the horizon. 

Suddenly our attention was drawn to a rustling among 
the corn-stalks, away over in the field on our right. It 
ceased for a little while, but was soon detected again. 
" Do you hear that, Barney ? " whispered my companion. 
" I do — we must look sharp." 

The silence for the next interval — the strain upon our eyes 
and ears — was excruciating. Again we heard the noise, 
more subdued bat evidently nearer than before. Acting 
upon the same instinct, we both quietly and quickly dis- 
mounted, and posted ourselves at the fence that skirted the 
corn-field. Kneeling there, and holding our bridles with 
the left arm, we rested carbines on the middle rail of the 



45 

fence, and awaited the enemy. We had no doubt at all 
that a rebel had left his hiding place at Pett's, and was 
approaching us in this stealthy way to pick us off. 

After another fearful silence, the sound came again, 
startlingly distinct and near, accompanied by the cautious 
tread of feet. On came the miscreant, stopping every instant 
or tAvo, as if to listen and peer ahead. Not more than six 
yards now intervened between us and the foe ; but we could 
see nothing in the tall, close corn. 

The suspense of that moment was painful and profound 
— I recall it now with a thrill, and so, no doubt, will my 
companion. Not that we were more nervous than soldiers 
usually are; but one may calmly face an open foe, and yet 
shudder at the creep of an assassin. 

The next instant Ave should have fired blindly into the 
corn, Avhen directly before us the stalks were thrust asidd^'^ 
and there appeared in the Avaning light of the moon — reader, ^ 
what do you suppose ? ^Yhy, only the big ears and head of 
a Avhite jackass! There Avas our assassin, assinine and 
innocent, munching the fodder at his ease, unconscious of 
the terror AA'hich he had inspired, and of the tragic death 
which he had narroAvly escaped. Immensely relieved, Ave 
arose before the beast as suddenly as apparitions, and he 
he in turn w^as frightened into a hasty retreat. 

The joke leaked out— it AA^as too good to keep to ourselves 
—and to this day Watts and I are known to many of the 
boys as the pickets Avho Avere bushAvhacked by an ass. 

Monday daAvned clear and cold. At eight o'clock no 
enemy had appeared. We Avere relieved by infantry, and 
the command fell back to Triune, where Ave found our 
Avagons, and replenished haversacks for tAA'o days more. 

Major Rosengarten, then, under orders, detailed thirty 
men to act as train guard, and Avith the rest of the three 
hundred started off on the southern flank of McCook 
5 



46 

who was now moving eastward to concentrate with the 
centre ond left. 

The wagon guard consisted of the newly relieved pickets, 
so that Watts and I were included — not greatly to our 
regret. Being directed to await orders at Triune, and 
anticipating aoma hours of quiet, we prepired to provide 
for the inner man such luxuries as the neighborhood 
afforded. Some successful foraging was d:>ne. The whole 
party dined regally on fresh mutton and pork, goose, 
chicken, et3., with enough left for another day. (rovern- 
ment meat was at a heavy discount. With full bellies 
and jovial spirits we lounged in "groups about the fires, 
recounting the incidents of the previous few days, and 
voting unanimously that campaigning w.is not so terrible 
after all, when opportunity like the present offered com- 
pensation. Some of the boys had secured a quantity of 
applejack from a neighboring still. Canteens were freely 
circulated and pipes went round. Conversation grew genial 
and mirthful. The pickets who had been bushwhacked 
the night before came in for raillery. Songs were sung — ■ 
"Gay and Happy,"and others of that ilk — with a vehemence 
that argued well for the strength of the applejack. Ah yes, 
the boys were happy, very happy; and noisy 

Sj noisy that we did not hear the thunder of hoofs on 
the road until a horseman Avas almo't in our midst . He 
was a courier fro ii our commind. AVith pale face and 
excite! utterance he told this fearful story: that the 
regiment had been ambuseided by a heavy force of rebel 
infantry, and that the two Majors, four Sergeants, and 
sfeveral privates, were known ti b3 dead; others wounded 
and missing.* 



*Iq this cliiir^e th-rrp wai^-. olevvn killcl, tweuty-five wjiiniel, an 1 
nine missing'. 



47 

There was no more -song or mirth that day. Tlie tidings 
seemed incredible, but confiiraation and detail were swift 
to follow, and the horrors of the story were more than 
verified. They had discovered Avhat they supposed to be a 
small force of rebels secreted behind a brush-fence; charging 
across the fields to within a few yards of the enemy, they 
were met by a long sheet of flame from two regiments of 
infantry, with the result above stated, — except that Major 
Ward Avas not instantly killed, but lingered a little while 
at a house near the scene of the slaugliter. 

With this terrible news came orders to move the .train 
on the morroAV across the country to the Murfreesboro turn- 
pike, and rejoin the command near the licadrjuarters of 
General Rosecrans. 

It was a melancholy night, that. Around the fires, in 
low, sad voices, the calamity was discussed, and the 
mysterious presentiments of some of the killed were made 
known. Herring had written a line to his wife, on the 
fly-leaf of his pocket bible, to the effect that he was about 
to be killed. Kimber had, that morning, been unusually 
anxious to wash his face, and upon being asked in a 
jocular way why he was so particular, replied, with a sad 
smile, that he would ''make a better looking corpse." 
Rosengarten had at starting expressed the belief that he 
would not come back alive. Ward had a noticeable de- 
pression of spirits, which even his natural gaiety could not 
conceal. 

Both the Majors were young, well-connected, ambitious 
and daring ; and though perfectly friendly to each other, 
there was an ill-concealed rivalry between them which 
sought comparison in personal gallantry. They were 
supposed to be constantly in search of enterprises that 
promised a field for such display. 



48 

They had found one, the first and the last. Their rivalry 
was ended, and equal glory was their meed. 

The " wee sma' hours" were upon us ere the gloom created 
by the day's tragedy was forgotten in slumber. Even there 
it followed me. In a dream I again opened the flap of my 
tent, and saw the melancholy figure standing alone, listening 
to the voice of that fate which had now closed about him 
forever. 

The life of a soldier in the field gives him little room 
for sentiment. The scenes crowd each other ; the excite- 
ments of each day are forgotten in those next following. 
So that when the morning of Tuesday, December 30,dawned 
upon us, and we bustled about for breakfast, and packed up 
to march,there was a visible return of philosophy and good 
cheer. 

All that morning we jogged along with our five warons, 
through a wild, wooded country, impeded in our march by 
the roughness of the roads. At noon we had made but 
half a dozen miles. We halted, then, at a sharp turn in 
the road, and near by stood a cabin from which the smoke 
curled up into the air, showing it to be inhabited. Several 
of our fellows, having consumed their mutton, and still 
holding the Commissary in contempt, rode up to the house 
with the hope of buying something eatable. Watts and 
myself brought forth the remnants of a boiled goose. 
Sitting our horses thus comfortably, in the warm sunshine 
of noon, we listened anon to the faint sound of skirmishing 
that came up from the south, and congratulated ourselves 
on being in the rear and out of danger. 

Suddenly we noticed two or three troopers scampering 
wildly from the house, and through the woods behind the 
latter caught sight of a party of rebel horsemen approach- 
ing the road. We had not time to recover from our 
astonishment— indeed, I was half-inclined to believe that 



49 

the strangers were frieiuls, as two of them wore blue over- 
coats — wlien they began to fire at us. Watts had his 
horse's ear slit by the first bullet. We were about getting 
our carbines into position, when an immense crowd of 
brown-coated cavalry appeared in the woods behind the 
first party, and swarmed toward us. 

We did not wait to see any more. Our whole party, 
teamsters and all, commenced a masterly retreat in every 
direction, every man for himself. The rebels kept up a 
constant peppering at the fugitives, and shouted to them to 
surrender. Many of them complied, and were paroled 
(and robbed) on the spot, to find their way as best they 
could to Nashville. The victors then cut the mules loose, 
and set fire to the wagons. 

All this v/hile, as may be expected, Watts and I were 
getting out of the way. He had the fastest horse, so that 
his retreat in the matter of speed was more masterly than 
mine. But after a good, long, rough three miles of gallop, 
I overtook him, together with a small party of the Third 
Tennessee Cavalry. This regiment Iiad been dispersed 
elsewhere by the same rebel force, now ascertained to be 
Wheeler's. That General was making his famous raid 
around the army of Eosecrans, and was fresh from his sore 
repulse at Lavergne. 

The officer in command of tlie Tennesseeans got tlie 
stragglers together and would have followed the rebels, 
with the hope of saving a wagon or two ; but more escaped 
men came by and reported the total destruction of the 
train. 

My blanket felloAv and myself held a counsel of war, and 
decided upon our course. We made our way as fast as 
possible through a wretched country, in the direction, as 
we supposed, of the Murfreesboro pike. About dark we 
emerged from the forest upon a turnpike. Following it 



50 

up to and aerons Overall's Creek, we began to overtake the 
ambulances and wagons of Davis and Sheridan, and 
learned to our disgust that this was the Wilkerson road, 
two miles west of the one we were seeking. The troops 
of McCook had advanced along this pike during the day, 
fighting themselves into position. Evidences of conflict 
met us at every step — numerous dead bodies, wounded 
stragglers, scattered arms and accoutrements, trees shivered 
by shot and shell. 

Tired out with the day's work. Watts and I were loth to 
go further that night, although anxious to rejoin our 
command. The latter was supposed to be somewhere on 
the Murfreesboro road, near the general head-quarters; but 
to find it then would have necessitated a night's blind 
traveling through a wilderness of cedars. We concluded 
to await daylight. 

We Avere now at Grierson's farm, a mile south of Overall's 
creek. On elevated ground to the left of the road, opposite 
the orchard, were some ammunition wagons belonging to 
Sheridan's division. Making known our situation to the 
teamsters they welcomed us to their fires with soldierly 
hospitality, and put us in the way of procuring corn for 
our horses. 

Th^ night was clear and cold — so clear that I made some 
notes in my diary by the light of the moon. We were 
about three miles from Murfreesboro, not more than one 
mile from our own front. Our position gave us a view of the 
southern horizon, which was lighted up with the fires of 
the enemy. Eockets occasionally shot into the air. By 
attentive listening we could hear the rumbling of rail-road 
trains, and at times a confused murmuring like the cheers 
of a distant multitude. The fire-works and cheers were in 
honor of the Confederate President's visit to Bragg at 
Murfreesboro, as we learned next day from prisoners. 



51 

The hostile armies were now face to face. For five days 
they had been pparring — one pushing, the other receding; 
closing slowly together until the distance between them 
was reduced to less than usual skirmish ground. The 
struggle must come on the morrow. 

How many gallant souls were sleeping then their last 
temporal sleep ! dreaming perhaps of the homes they were 
never more to see! 

HoAV many homes and hearts far away would be swiftly 
and forever plunged into desolation by the first news from 
this battle-field! 

With such thoughts — for '' the weary way had made us 
melancholy" — I and my bunk-fellow bestowed ourselves 
into a wagon, or some boxes marked "Enfield Cal. 58," 
and there awaited the coming of the memorable last day 
of the year. 

It was not yet daylight when the mules around us, having 
disturbed our slumber more than once during the night by 
their kicking and rattling of chains, roused us thoroughly 
by a concerted braying for breakfast. Our teamster friends 
were already astir. We got up, fed and saddled our horses, 
and breakfasted bountifully on a cracker and a half and a 
cup of coffee. By that time the streaky clouds in the east 
were receiving the first tints of the sun. The morning was 
intensely cold, and a heavy frost covered everything. 
Eiding down the turnpike to a dirt road that branched 
westward past Grierson's house. Watts dismounted to 
tighten his saddle-girth. He had not completed the 
operation when we both were startled by a sharp, swift 
volley of musketry, that echoed from beyond the cedars 
away to the south-west. It must have been two minutes 
before another volley was heard, deeper and heavier, 
followed by the roar of aitillery. Quickly another crash, 
and another roar, mingled with irregular reports; and then 



52 

they followed each other rapidly, and seemed to be spread- 
ing more to our front. 

"Watts," said I, as we started forward again, ''that'? 
more than a skirmish." 

"Yes," said he, oracularly, pulling out his watch, "its 
the battle of Murfreesboro, begun at ten minutes past seven 
o'clock A.M. on the last day of the year, 1862." 

On the strength of our faith in the prediction, we both 
pulled out our note books, and recorded it in the prophet's 
wordet. 

Further on, at a clearing in the cedars, we stopped again 
and listened to the increasing tumult of the conliict. The 
rebel cheers, as they drove our men, were plainly audible. 
A couple of demoralized artillerymen came hurrying out 
of the woods from the direction of the battle, and in answer 
to our inquiries reported an overwhelming roat — brigades 
and regiments and bat eries surprised and broken to pieces 
by the swiftness and vigor of the rebel attack. 

But it was all important to ourselves that we should 
hurry on. Our purpose was to get as near as possible to 
our own lines, and follow them eastward to the Murfreesboro 
road. Proceeding briskly along the pike, the noise of the 
battle grew louder. Frequent stragglers came running 
from the thicket, some mounted on mules, some on artillery 
horses, cut from the wagons and guns. 

The turn of affairs was evidently disheartening to the 
troops. Probably not one soldier in the army had 
anticipated such a thing as our own defeat after five days' 
successful advance. 

Emerging from the cedar-woods upon an open country, 
the uproar of the conflict met us in full force. Haifa mile 
distant, along tlie edge of another cedar thicket, stretched 
a line of blue coats extending to the left across the pike 
and into tlie woods beyond it. Here the fightini? was 



stubborn, and while we remained, the enemy made no 
progress; but on the right the sound of the battle surged 
frightfully toward the rear, and the dull, white smoke was 
gathering heavily over the trees in that direction. 

We observed, too, that the turnpike in our rear, as far 
asthe eye could reach, was darkened with retreating troops. 
A confused mob of soldiers, most of them Avithout arms, 
were hurrying across the road and plunging into the cedar- 
brakes. Great numbers, mostly wounded, were also falling 
back from the divisions in front of us. Slowly and 
wearily the bloody and bandaged heroes passed us by, 
some of them horribly mutilated, yet silent in their suffer- 
ing, and still clinging to their muskets. 

A little way before us, off the road, we noticed a mount- 
ed group, irom which occasionally an aide or orderly 
dashed off to the iront. Evidently some one in authority 
was there. Eiding nearer we saw in the midst of the party 
a small, precise figure, well seated on a black hoise. There 
was one star on his shoulder, and he was talking or giving 
orders in a brief and quiet way. 

This was Sheridan — not so famous then, but well known 
and admired in the army. He was even then building 
the foundation of his fame. It was his division that was 
fighting so stoutly on the edge of the cedars, and won for 
him that day the additional star of a JMaj or- General. 

All this while the crash and roar of the battle shook the 
earth beneath us. The rattle of musketry sounded like the 
continuous ripping of heavy canvas : imagine that sound 
magnified a thousand times or so, and you have an idea of 
the noise of battle. The stragglers became more numer- 
ous. Bullets and shells were hurtling around and over us 
in a lively manner. The place was getting uncomfortable. 

Watts and myself had no business there; we had stop- 
ped merely out of curiosity, anyhow — so we reasoned our- 



54 

selves very conveniently into a retreat. Following^llie strag- 
glers, our intention v/as to make all haste across the coun- 
try ; but passing so many wounded soldiers it occurred to 
us to put a couple of disabled boys astride of our horees. 
An hour's tedious meandering through the cedar wilder- 
ness brought us to the open country, bordering the Mur- 
freesboro road. Along the latter, and far to the left of it, wo 
observed dark masses of troops, moving to the aid of the 
retreating right. The country in the rear was crowded with 
disorganized regiments; and as the waves of battle continued 
to surge nearer from all points of the line, it became evi- 
dent to the stupidest observer that the whole army was 
retrograding. 

teaching the Murfreesboro road, we transferred our 
wounded freight to an ambulance, and soon found our 
regiment, which was preparing to move. 

It was about eleven o'clock when we were joined by the 
7th Pennsylvania, and portions of the od Tennessee, and 
2d Kentuckv Cavalry. Twelve rounds of cartridge were 
distributed as we sat our horses. Then we rode off 
undertheleadof Brig. Gen. D. S. Stanley, Chief of Cavalry. 

It was a long and wild ride that he led us, over the 
country on the right flank of the retreating army, crossing 
and re-crossing Overall's Creek. Going head-long on the 
outskirts of a wood, the column was startled by the 
near roar of artillery beliind us. A shell exploded in our 
midst, and it was soon discovered that a private of the 7th 
Pennsylvania had lost an arm. Another shot came. The 
column got restive, and the rear half made a plunge for 
safety along a narrow road that seemed inviting; but the 
fngitives ran straight into the arms of Wheeler's Kebel 
Cavalry. Among these captured troopers was my boon 
companion, Watts. 



55 . 

Meantime, the otlier portion of the brigade was getting 
demoralized — for tlie battery had fired a third shot-^when 
we Avere presently reassured by the statement that tlie 
supposed rebel gun was our own, and had fired into us by 
mistake. Poor consolation, that, for the 7tli Pennsylvania 
boy! 

Pushing on through woods and by-roads we about four 
o'clock emerged upon a dirt-road near the house of a Mrs. 
Burrows. The first thing I noticed on coming into the 
road was the dead body of a mere boy, not more than fifteen 
years old, lying with his face half buried in a pool of mud. 
His arm • were outstretched, and his right hand grasped the 
barrel of an old rifle that lay beside him. In passing the 
body I noted with a shudder that some of the horses had 
trampled on the skull. Over a fence, just behind the boy, 
lay an old man, he also clinging to his rifle. Both were 
clad in the merest rags, and the old man's hat still partly 
covered his head. They had evidently fallen at the same 
time — the ])oy just after clearing the fence, the old man in 
the act of climbing. 

Looking off" down the field, numerous other bodies were 
seen, some in blue uniform. In an orchard, on the other 
side of the road, were half a dozen Union corpses, as evi- 
denced by the absence of their overcoats and hats, and, in 
some instances, of their shoes. The poorly-clad Confede- 
rates could never resist the temptation to plunder a dead 
Yankee in that manner. 

We took down the fence, near the old rebel's body, and 
filed over into the field. It was beautiful ground, covered 
with short grass, and sloped away gently for half a mile, 
rising into a bold ridge at the southern extremity. 

Half way down the slope we formed a line of battle. I 
looked back over our rear and distinguished a dark-blue 
streak, stretching along the edge of some timber, about 



56 

half a mile distant. I could see, too, ihe faint flash of a 
bayonet now and then. We were supported by infantry, 
it seemed — a most comforting thought. 

General Stanley and staff rode slowly up and down be- 
fore us, scanning carefully the ridge in the south. From 
that point, evidently, the rebels were expected. The sun 
was low in the west, when faint and confused firing was. 
heard from the front, followed by the rapid and disorderly 
flight of our skirmishers, back over the ridge, and from 
the woods that covered the right of our line. Almost im- 
mediately after, a few mounted figures appeared and halted 
on the ridge — it was the enemy. More followed ; then a 
long column tiled up over the hill, and down the slope a 
short distance, where they wheeled very prettily into line. 
A second column soon followed and performed the same 
manoeuvre. Their skirmishers advanced boldly to the 
base of the hill, and commenced firing at ours. There 
was artillery, too, we noticed, posted in a clump of trees 
on the rebel left. 

Meanwhile there was agitation along our lines. Gen- 
eral Stanley came thunderiug down from the left, and 
stopped short before the commanding officer of the 7th 
Pennsylvania. 

"Major," he said, " we'll charge them now." He then 
dashed past us to the Tennesseeans on our right, where he 
spoke similar Avords of cheer. Returning to the centre, he 
said, in a voice that rang like a trumpet, 

" I will take command of the I5th Pennsylvania."^' 

*It was a '^iMjeliil an 1 fatlierly kiiilnois iii General Stanley to take 
personal command of oni- little battalion, for we wore almost orphaned 
of officers. The Colonel had been a prisoner at 11 chmond sinco the 
battle of Antietam; the Lient.-Colonel was an invalid at Nashville, 
whence he started with us, but was compelled to return ; tlie two 
Majors, whom we had learned to confide in and admire, were dead. 
Captain Vezin, to wliom tiio command had suddenly succeeded, though 
a brave and worthy officer, was comparatively untried and unknown. 



57 

AVith that he drew his sword, shouted the command, 
"Draw Sabre! Charge/ Follow me ! '^ and plunged away 
down the slope with his little brigade at his heels. 

It was gallantly done. The red sunset glanced like 
blood upon our twelve hundred blades as we swept like an 
avalanche upon the foe. 

The rebels opened upon us with artillery, and stood 
their ground until we had come to close quarters with 
their skirmishers. Then their first line gave way, bearing 
back the second, the whole mass scampering off in confu- 
sion up the ridge. Their guns were hastily limbered 
and drawn off. In fifteen minutes from the start, not an 
armed foe was in sight. A dozen or so were killed, and 
over a hundred captured. Our casualties amounted to a 
few wounded. 

One of the men of my company (L),* performed an act 
of brilliant daring. As the rebels were hurrying away he 
dashed forward into a crowd of them, shot down the color- 
bearer of d, regiment, snatched the flag from his grasp as he 
fell, and bore it triumphantly but modestly to his com- 
rades. This action was performed under the eye of General 
Stanley, who complimented the hero on the field. 

Alas ! hero though, he was — like many another of that 
day — he did not long enjoy his laurels. Two weeks there- 
after he died of disease in a hospital at Nashville. 

The memorable day was ended, but not our danger and 
suffering. All night long we sat on horseback in that field, 
expecting an attack at daylight. The cold was most bitter. 
We had eaten nothing since morning; both men and horses 
were nearly used up. Still we were kept there, snatching 
such sleep as we could on^liorseback, and agitating our 
hands and feet to keep them from freezing. 



Iloyt. 



58 

When the dawn came, raw and misty, the first of the 
New Year, it found us crusted with frost, benumbed and 
shivering, looking wearily through leaden eyelids for the 
expected enemy. But the rebels were probably as fagged 
as we, for they did not appear. 

At sunrise, relieved by infantry, we fell back over the 
fields to the pike again, passing scores of corpses, frozen 
stiff and covered with a winding-sheet of frost. Over one 
of these bodies some friendly hand had thrown a blanket, 
to which a scrap of paper was fastened, bearing no doubt 
the data for a rude memorial when the burial-party should 
come. 

My story of these eventful holidays ends here. For 
though that New Year's day was not without adventure 
— among others a rebel attack upon a train which we were 
escorting to Nashville — yet our participation in the great 
battle ended with the dawn of the New Year. 



VI. 

The Courieh Line. 

Of all the duties performed by our soldiers in this war, 
none were more dangerous or exciting than those of the 
courier. True, the infantry and artillery fought the 
pitched battles, and the cavalry led the advance, held the 
outposts, or made long rides around the enemy's flanks ; 
but they were conducted in person by officers of judgment 
and experience, and, besides, individual danger is immea- 
surably lessened by facing it en masse. 

To the courier, however, were intrusted the written 
commands for the movements of the army, with which he 
was expected to make his way alone (unless particular 
danger was foreseen) through a country that was probably 
penetrated by the enemy's scouts or infested by the more 
dreaded guerrillas. 

We had just got settled into camp again, at Trenton, 
Georgia, after the laborious scaling of Sand Mountain, 
when, early one bright starry morning, the orderlies sliook 
us out from the comfortable blankets, with injunctions to 
pack everything and saddle up immediately. Then away 
on a long and dusty, but -withal a pleasant, starlight ride 
across the valley, passing the rear camps of McCook and 
Thomas, from which the peveille wsis beating merrily in the 
crisp morning air. These corps were on the march to cross 
the Lookout Mountains, which loomed up grandly in the 
distance. We were not long in discovering the nature of 



60 

our new duties. As we proceedeil, details of five or six 
men, under a non-commissioned officer, were left at con- 
venient points along the road; these were stations or reliefs 
on the courier line which we were forming. Our station 
was the most remote from the head-quarters of the army, 
while the constant advance of the different corps left us 
every day more isolated. Still more trying was the fact 
that our route to the advancing columns lay over the 
gloomy and difficult parses of the Lookout range, to 
surmount which taxed the utmost efforts of man and beast. 
Those who have served only in the eastern armies can form 
but a slight idea of the extraordinary feats of strength and 
endurance performed by the western troops in scaling the 
mountains of Tennessee and Georgia. The theatre of the 
war in Virginia presents no such formidable barriers as 
were encountered and overcome by the armed woodmen of 
the west. 

It was about ten o'clock on a cool night in the early part 
of September. Our little cabin blazed with a cheerful fire, 
which sent a gleam of dancing light out through the open 
doorway and across the road. The couriers, belted and 
spurred, stood or reclined in all sorts of positions around 
the fire, silently awaiting despatches. "VVe had learned to 
be expectant at night, as experience had proved that the 
majority of the mysterious packages came through at that 
time. Sergeant D. had just made a remark to that effect, 
when the familiar sound of horse's feet broke upon our 
ears. Mine were, perhaps, more alive to the sound at that 
moment than the rest, it being my turn to carry the next 
despatch. I walked to the door to listen. By the speed of 
the approaching messenger, I knew that the missive he 
carried was in haste. In advance of his arrival, therefore, 
I proceeded to mount " Shiloh," who was in excellent trim, 
and rubbed liis nose briskly on my shoulder as I untied 



61 

liim. He knew right well that a long and jDerilous journey 
was to be made, and like a brave animal as he was, his 
nostrils snorted defiance. 

In another moment the courier arrived. Sergt. D, ex- 
amined the despatch, and handed it to me as I rode up to 
the door. By the light from within I glanced at the 
superscription and read: "Major General Thomas, com- 
manding 14th Corps. Full speed.^' An instant later I was 
galloping away. 

The night was very clear, but chilly. As the cool air 
penetrated my clothing, I found myself more than once 
turning in the saddle to catch a farewell glimpse of the 
bright doorway behind, and the cheerful track across the 
road. But those beacons of comfort faded gradually in the 
distance, and as I descended a gentle slope in the road they 
finally disappeared. I then braced myself anew for the 
weary ride. Four long miles to the mountains, four still 
longer miles to climb and descend those wild gaps; and 
Heaven only knew how much further after that, as the 
14th Corps was probably still moving. I had traversed 
those roads several times before at night, but on this occasion 
they appeared to be unusually gloomy. The fenceless fields 
by which I swept seemed more forlorn than ii=ual ; the 
woods were darker through which I felt my way; the hideous 
cry of the owls seemed to fill the air with demon voices. 
I could not shake from me the presentiment of some im- 
pending evil. Instinctiv-ely my hand sought the revolver 
at my side, and half-cocked it. The action caused Sliiloh 
to prick up his ears and increase his .speed, and in a short 
time I found myself under the bold brow of Lookout, 
which shut out half the heavens, and rendered the darkness 
more intense. The approach to the mountain lies through 
a dense woods, along the outer skirt of which flowed a small 
stream, rippling musically in its narrow bed. Approach- 



62 

ing the creek, I loosened the rein in order to allow my 
horse to drink, as he was accustomed to do at this place. 
The banks were rather steep, and as he lowered his nose 
and was about to feel his way into the water, the woods 
behind were torn into a million echoes by the report of a 
rifle! At the same time my horse plunged madly forward 
into the creek, lost his footing, and we both went down 
together. It will readily be believed that I was scared; but 
I preserved sufficient presence of mind to disengage my 
feet from the stirrups and to draw my pistol, which I held 
up out of the water. The current of the stream was neither 
deep nor strong, so that Shiloh and myself soon regained 
our feet, and made all haste up the opposite bank. It was 
not until that moment that I noticed a mounted figure 
darkly outlined on the other side of the stream. It was 
my would-be murderer, who had doubtless expected to find 
me dead or disabled. I gave him a positive assurance to 
the contrary by discharging a shot at him, which caused 
the figure to disappear as suddenly as it had come. I 
listened to the sound of the rascal's retreat until it died 
away in the distance. Then, wringing some of the water 
out of my clothes, and remounting, I pushed forward with 
all speed from what appeared to be a dangerous locality. 
But my horse had not proceeded twenty yards before I 
perceived that his strength was failing. His steps lagged 
more and more every moment, in spite of my utmost efforts 
to urge him forward. With a heavy heart I dismounted 
and examined him. My fears proved too true: he was 
wounded. I felt a perforation in his groin, from which the 
warm blood oozed slowly down his flanks. The brave 
beast finally succumbed, and with a deep drawn sigh 
staggered heavily to the ground. For awhile my own 
danger was forgotten in sympathy for the poor horse. He 
had borne me faithfully and well through a thousand perils^ 



63 

and now he was giving up his life in my service. I am 
not ashamed to confess that the expiring breath of Shiloh 
as it ascended from those wild woods wrung from my eyes 
a tear of anguish and regret, though longaslranger to the 
" melting mood." 

My situation was certainly alarming. The bushwhack- 
er might follow me, and it was equally probable that oth- 
ers of his flan were lying in advance, to make sure of the 
victim. Those dreadful marauders seldom traveled alone. 

For aught I knew their practiced eyes might even then 
be staring through the darkness around me. For a 
moment or two I was in a painful state of indecision. In 
night rides I had always trusted implicitly to the instinct of 
my horse; but now that resource was denied me, and my 
topographical instincts were none of the best. Should I 
make my way back to the station, remount and bring a 
<3omrade with me? Perish the thought! I said. A 
feeling of pride determined me to go forward at all haz- 
ards and deliver my despatch. Quickly stripping the 
bridle, blanket, and saddle-bags from the dead animal, 
and securing them about my person, I gave my belt an 
extra hitch, bade a mental farewell to the carcass of Shiloh, 
and started forward. 

By the position of the few stars that were visible I 
assumed the time to be near midnight. The road up the 
mountain was fearfully trying to legs and wind. For two 
hours (as I judged) I clambered up the rockj way, stopping 
every hundred yards to rest my limbs and fill my exhaust- 
ed lungs. The air grew colder as I neared the summit, 
and the heavy dew saturated my cap and great-coat, already 
well soaked in the creek. It was growing lighter, too, as 
I ascended. I turned at times to look off into the valley 
behind, which stretched away dark and shadowy to the 
horizon. Almost beneath my feet, as it seemed, I caught 



64 

an occasional glimpse of a gleam of light, which twinkled 
in the distance like a star. It was the bright doorway I 
had left behind. How like home it seemed, then, in the 
rude walls of the courier's hut ! 

But like the " Excelsior " boy, I turned away with a 
sigh from the " household fires," and bent my steps again 
toward the summit. I had not gone far when "Haiti 
who comes there ? " yelled out shrill and clear, as if from 
the clouds. The unexpected challenge thrilled me to the 
marrow. Was it a rebel or a Union picket ? The 
lightning-like process by which I arrived at the conclusion 
that my challenger was a Federal sentry, is long since 
forgotten; but to such a conclusion I did arrive in an 
instant. Answering — 

"A courier with despatches," 

"Dismount, courier, and advance," he replied. 

As I was already dismounted — and would have been on 
those steeps, even if I had had my horse — I proceeded to 
obey the latter part of the injunction. I had gone but a 
few yards, however, when I was halted again. " Where's 
your horse " ? inquired the sentinel, who was evidently 
growing suspicious. This question led to an explanation 
of affairs ; and in a short time I was the centre of a gaping 
crowd on the mountain top, to whom I related my adven- 
ture in the valley. My listeners were a portion of 
Harrison's Mounted Infantry, who were returning from a 
scout. I hold in grateful remembrance a tin-cup full of 
hot coffee, which one of these brave boys prepared for my 
benefit. I think they called him " Gussy." Long may he 
wave! unless, poor fellow, he sleeps under the blood- 
soaked soil of Chickamauga, the omens of which conflict 
were then gathering at the front. Aided by the advice of 
these boys, and a captured mule which they loaned me, I 
was not long in finding the way into the other valley,, 



65 

where the newly risen sun and freshly traveled roads en- 
abled me to keep track of the 14th Corps. I found the 
Head-Quarters of Pap Thomas in the saddle, and delivered 
my despatch to one of his staff. 



VII. 

Chickamauga — Lookout Moun- 



tain. 



It was the night of September 19, 1863. The first day 
of the awful conflict on "Dead Man's Eiver" had passed 
into history — a bloody page. The contending armies, 
mutually exhausted, sank down among the dead in those 
dark forests to snatcli a few hours rest ere the sun should 
light them again to the murderous work of battle. 

Our company had moved in the morning from Craw- 
fish Springs with the head-quarters train, and since 3 P.M. 
had been standing to horse towards the extreme left, a little 
east of the Eossville road. Here we had snuffed the odor 
of the battle on our right, and listened impatiently to the 
crash and roar, the yell of the charge, and the cheer of the 
repulse. But we could see nothing of the troops, save a 
frequent straggler looking for, or skulking from, his 
regiment, and more frequently a wounded soldier seeking 
a surgeon. The ambulances, too, rolled by us constantly 
with their freight of human suffering. Towards evening 
Minty's splendid brigade of horsemen trotted past us in 
the direction of Eossville, to meet the enemy's cavalry in 
our rear. Only those who have experienced the feeling 
can know the misery of inactivity on the field of battle. 

Now that night had fallen, and the fight died away — 
the result of it, too, being doubtful — we began to grow ex- 



67 

ceedingly restive. Our Lieutenant Commanding rode 
uneasily up and down in front of u?. He evidently shared 
our anxiety. I tliink he would soon have taken the re- 
sponsibility of moving somewhere, had we not heard the 
sound of rapid hoofs down the road. The command 
mounted in a twinkling, and awaited developments, 
which might be the firing of our videttes, or the welcome 
appearance of a courier. It was a courier, bringing orders 
for us to mal^e all haste to Chattanooga. 

We had now something active to do, and we did it. 
A wild and breathless ride ensued. The road was inches 
deep with dust, and it was rarely that a trooper could see 
the head of the horse that carried him. Occasionally, 
though, a little breeze wafted the dust clouds away, reveal- 
ing a hazy moon, and along our left the low dark ridges of 
the Mission Hills, overshadowed by the lofty range of 
Lookout. 

We overtook thousands of silent stragglers, many of them 
wounded ; and picked our way through miles of wagons, 
falling back to the Tennessee. At John Eoss's house — 
called ''Rossville" — we found the reserve corps of Gordon 
Granger resting on their arms. We halted for a short 
time among the Ohio boys of General Steadman, who little 
dreamed that their timely march on the morrow would 
save the hard-pressed heroes on the Chickamauga. Moving 
on again, through dust thick enough to cut with our sabres, 
we reached Chattanooga about midnight. Utterly worn 
out— for we had been unusually active on the courier line, 
and for four days past had not unsaddled — men and beasts 
threw themselves on the ground at the rail-road depot and 
slept. 

The dawn of Sunday, the 20th September, gave us our 
first view of the objective point of the campaign. 



68 

The first object that challenged "attention was the mag- 
nificent dark blue front of Lookout Mountain, wreathed 
in the vai3ors that rose like incense from the river at its 
feet. The sun, though to us unrisen, tipped the bald pate 
of the mountain with a golden streak, while the ridges and 
valleys below yet lay in the mists of early dawn. 

The town — itself a straggling, disordered place — was full 
of straggling soldiers. Wagon trains crowded through 
the town and rumbled over the pontoons to the north side 
of the Tennessee. 

Meanwhile we breakfasted on the remnants of our rations 
issued three days previous, and drew quarter rations for 
two days more. The memorable starving time, which for 
the rest of the army, began Avith the siege, commenced for 
us on this Sunday morning. Not that provisions were 
scarce, but the Commissary Department had probably 
already received orders to hoard up their stores. For the 
horses we were compelled to cross the river and rummage 
some miles, through a well gleaned country, before we 
could find them a little fodder. 

Keturning to the river we bivouaced on the north bank 
in front of the town. Here we lay throughout that long, 
eventful Sunday, watching the arrival of the immense 
wagon trains, and listening to the thunder o^ Thomas's 
magnificent fight. 

About the middle. of the afternoon a bustle and excite- 
ment was noticeable in the town. Orderlies galloped 
hurriedly about; staflTofficers appeared and assumed authori- 
ty; stragglers were picked up by armed j^atrols and march- 
ed away. Order seemed to spring up all around as if by 
magic. Soon it was whispered around that the command- 
in"- General had arrived. After awhile shouts and cheers 
were audible away out on tlie plain toward the mountain, 
and then along the lines nearer and nearer, until we could 



69 

see the commotion at the river above us. "Old Rosey" 
was there, sure enough ; it was his presence that brought 
order and enthusiasm out of chaos and despair. Later in 
the afternoon the fact became known that Generals McCook 
and Crittenden had also arrived from the front, followed 
by depressing rumors of their corps having been cut to 
pieces.* 

That Sunday night is one of fearful memory. Where 
was the army? what was to be our fate ? were the queries 
in every mind. The reports brought in by teamsters and 
others led us to fear the worst. 

All night long the wagons and stragglers poured in on 
the different roads— the stragglers being promptly put out 
in the trenches, where, 

"By the strua;gling mooubeam's misty light, 
And the lanterns dimly burning," 

they vigorously plied the pick and shovel, under the 
direction of Rosecrans and his engineers, throwing up a 
line of works from the mountain's base to the river. 

On Monday we had a little diversion. We received orders 
to climb Lookout Mountain, scout the approaches to the 

*The reader will understand that this chapter records only the move- 
ments made and scenes witnessed by the Company (L) to which the 
author belonged. The main portion of the regiment, under Colonel 
Wm. .T. Palmer, remained on the field during both days of the battle 
rendering important service as couriers, orderlies, and escort. When 
Davis's division gave way on Sunday, the Anderson Cavalry had the 
delicate and difficult task of arresting the flying troops. An eye-witnesa 
of the scene (Sergt. Wm. Gable, Co. I) relates that in the height of the 
tumult and confusion Major General McCook and staff rode up ; and to 
a question from an officer of the Anderson Cavalry as to where he should 
place his men to be most effective, the General replied, excitedly: "Back, 
back to Chattanooga — every man must get back to Chattanooga." And 
soon after away went the commander of the 20th Corps, obeying his own 
injunction. But Old Roman Thomas did not th:nk it necessary to get 
back so hurriedly! 

7 



70 

summit, and guard the signal station there, the flags of 
of which we could plainly see from over the river. It 
was highly important to retain so splendid a position as 
long as possible in view of the occupation of Chattanooga 
by our forces, and the consequent following up of Bragg's, 
who would thus place himself directly under our telescopes 

Leaving our wagons, therefore — virtually cutting loose 
from our base — we re-crossed the river and made our way 
over the plain, now tumbled up into formidable earth- 
works, to the mountain. As an illustiation of the growing 
scarcity of hard-tack, it may be stated that in passing 
through the town some keen-scented trooper found a negro 
man with a lot of musty ginger-bread to sell, in pieces no 
larger than a man's hand, at fifty cents each. Federal 
currency. His stock, some dozen pieces, was bought out 
in less time than I have taken to tell it. 

But O ! that weary, panting, exhausting ascent of 
Lookout Mountain ! leading, almost dragging, our weak- 
legged Kosinantes ; sinking down in our tracks every ten 
minutes to rest and gasp for breath. Not the magnificent 
views that stretched away below us, nor the significant 
boom of artillery that occasionally came up, nor the 
portentous clouds of dust that hovered over the Mission 
Hills, could rouse our senses from the lethargy of fatigue. 
Mechanically we toiled onward and upward; and when at 
length, about noon, the upper level was reached, the entire 
party, biped and quadruped, sank gasping and quivering 
upon the rocks. 

Three hours later we had recovered sufficiently to drag 
ourselves up the plateau to Summertown. This was a 
handsome little place, a noted resort of the chivalry, and 
contained an immense hotel, into which we incontinently 
bestowed ourselves. Evidences of hasty evacuation were 
visible on all hands ; but we found scattered through the 



71 

big rooms almost every physical and cesthetical comfort 
commonly kept in hotels. I except the very essential one 
of food. Pianos, sofas, chairs, bedsteads and feather beds, 
statuettes, books, crockery-Avare and cooking utensils — 
these we found in abundance ; but not a scrap of any thing 
eatable. 

The village was utterly deserted, save by two women and 
some children, who peered from the windows in great 
alarm. Finding, however, that we made no attempt to 
molest them, or to appropriate their little store of corn 
meal, they soon became friendly and communicative. 

The signal officer, with his corps of three men, was 
stationed on a projecting rock, a little distance above the 
hotel. The position afforded a visual sweep that seemed 
to take in the entire South. 

We remained here only a little while. The roads were 
to be picketed, forage must be found. Leaving a detach- 
ment at the station, we groped our way through the pitchy 
darkness for six or seven miles down the ridge. Not a 
living thing was encountered in our travels, excejit a sleep- 
ing cavalryman and his horse, whom we found at midnight 
under a tree in the woods, and at first took for a napping 
rebel picket ; but he turned out to be a member of the 12th 
Kentucky (Union) Cavalry, which regiment had been cut 
to pieces in the valley. 

For the rest of the night we picketed the roads leading 
up from east to south. It was my fate to be placed at the 
farthest outpost on the southern road, over a mile from 
the reserve. By this road it was almost certain the enemy 
would make his approach — whether that night or not was 
the only question. O the interminable length of those 
*' wee sma' hours," when Birney and I stood to horse just 
inside the thickets, cold, weary, half starved, and half 
asleep, awaiting the tardy dawn! We expected every 



72 

moment to hear the sound of hostile hoofs. It seemed as 
if daylight would never come. Nor was it the least part 
of our misery to see our poor brute companions gnawing 
the bushes around them in the extremity of their hunger- 
When at last the welcome sun gilded the tree tops above 
us, and brought a recall, we returned sore and famished to 
our no less suffering comrades. 

Eeturning to Summertown we found that the army had 
fallen back during the night, and was occupying the hastily 
built works around Chattanooga. It was probable, therefore, 
that the rebel Cavalry were already swarming around the 
mountain, cutting off our escape. Starvation or captivity 
— the alternatives seemed about equal. So we looked upon 
them with the stolidity of veterans, thrumming the pianos 
and lounging on the sofas and beds, trusting in Heaven 
and Eosecrans for deliverance. 

On this day — the 22d of September — it was our good 
fortune to witness scenes, which, as viewed by us, have 
probably had no parallel in this war, and which rendered 
us for a time oblivious of danger and physical privations, 
albeit ''the difficult air of the mountain top" increased the 
keenness of our hunger. 

The day was calm and clear. From the overhanging 
cliffs we beheld the country mapped out beneath us for fifty 
miles around. As far as the eye coald separate them, 
appeared an agreeable diversity of wooded ridge and open 
plain, bathed in the sunlight, rich in the blended variety 
of early autumn tints, through which from east to west the 
silvery stream of the Tennessee wound its crooked way. 
In the dim distance, on every hand, the hills and mountain 
spurs rolled away in purple billows to the horizon. Far 
off in the south-east the air still looked heavy with the 
smoke and dust of battle. Directly under our feet, as it 
seemed, lay Chattanooga, — an infinitesimal "city" — encir- 



cled by yellow lines of earthworks, wliich extended 
unbrokenly from the mountain to the river. An inner 
circle of dark blue was still more apparent, from which 
the bayonets and colors gleamed in the sunlight — as though 
visibly tipped with the glory of as gallant a fight as any in 
history. 

In rear of the lines the plain and town were dotted with 
innumerable "dog tents," looking at that distance like 
clustei's of snow-balls. Over the river were vast parks of 
wagons, covering many acres, but at our height apparently 
spread over a few square yards. Still through the town, 
and over the thread-like pontoons, crawled long lines of 
diminutive white wagons, each one a Queen Mab's chariot, 

" Drawn by a team of little atomies ! " 

That was an absorbed group that watched these scenes 
from Lookout Mountain. The signal officer kept his eye 
glued to his glass, which was trained upoo the approaches 
to Chattanooga. He evidently expected the appearance of 
the rebels. Every eye around him was on the watch, every 
tongue silent. Soon the atmosphere beyond the Mission 
ridges grew hazy, and small clouds of dust rose slowly in 
the air. The excitement of our party at this moment was 
intense, but the stillness was so profound that thG^music of a 
band in Chattanooga was distinctly heard. Suddenly the 
signal officer slapped his knee and exclaimed quietly, 
"They are coming" ! at the same time giving some orders 
to his flagmen, who, screened by a thicket from the enemy's 
observation, waved their colors vigorously. Sure enough, 
when a pufi of wind lifted the hazy vail in the distance 
there appeared small squads of horsemen coming cautious- 
ly forward on the Rossville and Dry Valley roads. Behind 
them other distinct clouds arose, from which larger bodies 
of cavalry emerged. Simultaneously, on another road 



74 

further south, leading over the ridges beneath us, lilce a 
scene occnrred, and I was able to distinguish the flags of 
these parties, and the colors of their horses. In a moment 
more little pufF? of white smoke floating up from the roads - 
and the trees, followed by the faint rattle of carbines, told 
that the pickets of the two armies had met again. And 
now while we gazed, long, gray columns of infantry and 
strings of artillery appeared upon the roads, barely 
distinguishable from the clouds of dust which they created. 
One gun was seen to move into an open field, between the 
two main columns of the enemy. Immediately thereafter 
a dull red flash came from the spot, followed by the un- 
mistakeable crash of a Napoleon gun. Instantly our guns 
replied ; and for a little while there was a beautiful artillery 
skirmish, every shot being plainly visible to ns. The rebel 
gun was the first to be silent, and we saw it withdrawn. 

All this while, and for the rest ofthe day, the rebel columns 
continued to crawl over the hills like a swarm of insects, 
settling down into the fields, or disappearing in the woods. 
As their lines extended and developed ours, the skirmish- 
ing became sharper and heavier, rising at times into the 
genuine roar of battle. 

Who of the few that saw that sight can ever forget it? 
Were we to witness a still grander scene, an assault upon 
our works? If Bragg had any such notion at five o'clock 
— at which time the skirmishing was heaviest — his purpose 
was changed before night-fall. For as the mighty shadow 
of Lookout crept over the two armies, the fight dwindled 
away to a straggling picket fire, and here and there along 
both lines the bright twinkle of bivouac fires appeared, 
emerging with the stars and apparently in similar numbers. 
Two parallel semi-circles of blinking light, broken in spots 
by intervening woods, marked the opposing armies. 



.75 

I reclined on a ledge of rock for some hours, looking off 
upon this grand historic scene, listening to the rifle crackpj 
and between them tothe confused murmur of the camps, 
the music of the bands, and the occasional cheer of some 
enthusiastic regiment. 

But the night dews were gathering heavily ; so taking 
one last comprehensive look, I reluctantly withdrevr to the 
hotel, where I bestowed myself between two feather beds — 
not without apprehension lest, before morning, a rebel sabre 
or bayonet should pin me there forever. 

T!ie sun was high when I got up — for no early bugle 
was allowed to wake the mountain echoes. Looking over 
the rocks, the blue army and the gray still confronted each 
other, but in quiet. Both had, as if by tacit consent, ceased 
for awhile to murder pickets. But the Union colors and 
steel gleamed out proudly along the yellow works, and 
bands of music filled the air with defiant notes. 

They Avere ready for Bragg's assault. 

But Bragg was settling quietly down into his memorable 
seige, confident of receiving in due time the surrender of 
an emaciated and starving army. Things looked well for 
the Confederacy in this quarter. Nor was the Federal 
army without those who feared that our successes at 
Yicksburg and Gettysburg were about to be balanced. 

It now became necessary to look more closely to our own 
safety. The rebels swarmed about the eastern base of the 
mountain; their outposts were perhaps pushed half-Avay to 
the summit, on the only road by which we could descend. 
It was not probable that they would permit another day to 
pass before feeling their way to our retreat. Our provis- 
ions were absolutely gone ; horses and men were ravenous. 

To attempt cutting our way through, even if we had 
fed on capons and oats, would have been folly. A party 
went down the ridge on the western side in hopes of find- 



76 

ing a descent into Lookout valley. The boys might have 
climbed or tumbled down, but there was no visible foot- 
bold for a horse, except at the Gaps, many miles below. 

The fatigues and privations we had undergone produced 
a feeling of indifference as to our fate; and as we returned, 
slowly and despairingly, to Sumraertown, every mind was 
made up to submit with a stolid grace to (apparently) 
inevitable capture. But, reaching the signal station, we 
found a stranger there — externally a butternut, tho' really 
a noted Federal scout. He was a young man, and for years 
had passed almost daily through perils that would have 
whitened the hair of ordinary men ; yet he was as fresh as 
a daisy, quick, but quiet and collected, with clear steel-gray 
eyes that seemed the very incarnation of cool courage. 

Our friend was fresh from the rebel lines, which he 
reported in close proximity. A council of war was held, 
and the situation was thoroughly canvassed. The scout 
volunteered to conduct us down by a route known only to 
himself, and that extremely hazardous. We felt that it 
must indeed be so when he asked for a suit of our regimen- 
tals — for if found by the enemy leading us in his butternut 
jeans he would have swung for it to the first tree. We 
assorted a suit for him from the contents of our saddle- 
bags, and he was soon metamorphosed into a Federal 
trooper. 

At noon, all things being ready — pistols and carbines, 
carefully loaded and capped — we followed our guide down 
the road by which we had ascended, pulling our skeleton 
beasis after us. The gloomy and silent woods below were 
thoroughly scanned as we proceeded, lest a lurking ambush 
should start up around. Our footsteps in the dust sounded 
painfully loud. The occasional stumbling of a horse or 
bouncing of a loosened stone down the declivity, startled 
the echoes like a rebel veil. After traveling thus for a 



77 

half hour or so, we stopped at a sudden sign from the scout 
He went on down the road some distance, and laid himself 
flat on the road-side, with his ear to the ground; then 
rising, he seemed to examine the trees. His actions were 
as intelligible as a pantomine. "We all correctly under- 
stood them to mean that the enemy was but a little way 
below us and it was not safe to go any further. We now 
followed him away from the road; directly northward along 
the steep mountain side. Climbing over boulders, rocks 
and fallen timber ; wading knee-deep through fallen leaves 
and twigs ; scrambling through bushes and thorn-trees — 
such was the exhausting labyrinth through which we toiled 
for hours. It was with incredible difficulty that our 
miserable beasts were dragged and cufTed along. There 
was no sign of a path, save to the practised eye of the guide, 
to Avhom every rock and tree was no doubt familiar. 

We now heard the renewed picket skirmish, which 
sounded as though but a little way below us, and might at 
any moment burst into view. 

Suddenly the loud "Halt" ! of a picket echoed and re- 
echoed around. Reins were dropped in trepidation, and 
carbines were clutched — but only for an instant. There 
before us, not twenty yards away, a tall blue-coated soldier 
stepped out from behind a tree. Safe at last ! was the ex- 
clamation of hearts that had stood still for two hours. 

Sliding down the steep paths to Chatanooga creek, which 
we crossed under the rail road bridge, we made an entry 
once more into Chattanooga, a happy, but sore and starv- 
ing troop. 

The morning after these adventures revealed the rebel 
colors floating from the top of Lookout Mountain ! 



/ 



PPENDIX. 



An Account of the Mutiny in the Anderson Cavalry, at 
Nashville, Tenn., December, 1S62. 

To THE Author of the " Leaves " : 

My Dear Captain: — At the repeated requests ,of 
many of those most interested I avail myself of the 
opportunity you offer me to publish a statement of the 
troubles in the Anderson Cavalry known as the " Mutiny." 
Such a statement has, I believe, long been expected from 
me on account of the peculiar position I occupied in the 
organization for some time previous to and following the 
outbreak. I was the only member of the regiment who 
received a commission in it until after the troubles had 
subsided ; and in my capacity as Commissary and acting 
Quartermaster I was brought into intimate contact with all 
parties. I was also placed in command of the camp of the 
mutineers until their arrest by the authorities ; made it a 
part of my duty to be among them as much as possible 
during their confinement; and was placed in command of 
them again when they were removed to the barracks pre- 
paratory to re-organization. 

It is never too late to correct wrong impressions. I 
have always considered it due to the men, to their friends, 
and to history, that some attempt should be made to clear 
away the doubt that still, with many people, obscures the 
fair fame of the regiment. If my statement, offered, as I 



79 

have said, in compliance with repeated requests, shall tend 
at this late day to re-open old sores and to revive unpleas- 
ant controversies, no one will regret that result more than 
myself; but while I shall endeavor in this brief narrative 
to maintain an impartiality that cannot be misrepresented 
nor misunderstood, I propose to write what I believe to be 
the truth, holding myself, of course, responsible for all my 
statements, and ready if called upon either to reiterate or 
retract, according as I am confirmed of truth or convinced 
of error. 

The personnel of the regiment caused it to be regarded 
with jealousy at the start. Enlisting was then (1862) no 
longer looked upon as going on '• Governor Seward's three 
months' picnic." There were many young men, who 
while anxions to enter the service, were averse to forced 
association with a class that frequently composed our east- 
ern regiments. Captain Palmer's shrewd knowledge of 
human nature led him to sieze the opportunity for so 
golden a harvest. He obtained .authority to raise a 
battalion of 400 men, to be strictly confined to the class of 
young men above referred to; and then was seen the 
singular military spectacle of the recruit presenting him- 
self for enlistment with letters of recommendation from 
reputable parties, which might or might not obtain his 
admission to the surgeon. The success of the plan was so 
speedy and immense that after the battalion had been 
obtained, the recruiting went on unchecked, and in the 
course of a month there was gathered in camp at Carlisle 
aregiment of men, the like of which, I venture to say, never 
before entered into the composition of an army. 

But this great success was one of the principal sources 
of the subsequent troubles. It is impossible for one man 
to organize, equip, and discipline a regiment; yet Captain 
Palmer attempted it alone, though afterward aided by an 



80 

officer who was an invalid. This officer being in charge 
of camp, was in the habit — possibly from indisposition — of 
leaving the command every night to a private of another 
organization. Indeed for a period of about two months 
this large body of men was left almost alone, without even 
a non-commissioned officer in camp. 

Beginning their military life under such neglect, with 
accommodations more wretched and scanty than they ever 
afterwards possessed in the field, with arms and accoutre- 
ments that were the condemned refuse of the Indian wars^ 
it is not strange that the spirit of discontent should have 
started up among these men. And it is a splendid proof of 
their intelligence and patriotism that,notwithstanding these 
depressing influences, there was no disorder in the camp, 
and but three desertions. 

I have said that the command was often left "to a private 
of another organization." This introduces a subject which 
I approach with regret, but cannot avoid, as it involves the 
chief cause of the subsequent disorders. The organization 
alluded to was called the "Anderson Troop," a company of 
100 men selected from all parts of the state, recruited for 
and serving as the body-guard or escort of Maj. Gen. Buell. 
They had been officially reported to be the finest body of 
men in the western army. 

Many people supposed then — and do still — that this 
"Anderson Troop" and the "Anderson Cavalry" were 
one and the same. So, indeed, they should have been, and 
so, apparently, was the original intention, for there was a 
general understanding among the members of the Cavalry 
that the "Old Troop" (as the body-guard was called) was 
to be company "A" of the new regiment ; in fact the first 
company of the Cavalry, in its original organization, was 
always designated as " B." 



81 

But it soon became apparent that the interests of these 
two bodies were not identical. Wliat arrangements or 
promises Captain Palmer made with the gentlemen of the 
body-guard have never transpired ; but it speedily became 
obvious to the Cavalry that there was a scrambling 
rivalry among the former for the commissions in the new 
regiment. The rivalry between those who had been 
detailed to assist in the recruiting and those who still 
remained in the field, ran very high. Every man of them 
looked upon himself as the heir apparent to a commission. 
I say this in no disparagement of their ambition, which 
was natural and laudable ; but they made the fatal mistake, 
in thus seeking their own promotion, of assuming that the 
commissions belonged only to them— that the regiment 
was their exclusive property by virtue of their belonging 
to the body-guard — that the men whom they assumed to 
command "had no rights which they were bound to 
respect." As there was scarcely a man in the Cavalry 
who would not have honored a commission, they, as may 
be supposed, looked upon this appropriation of themselves 
with no great meekness. Witnessing the rivalry, suffering 
from the consequent delays and neglect, was it unreasonable 
that the men began at length to feel that they had been en- 
listed not for the good of the service, but for the purporJc of 
furnishing commissions to a body of men who looked upon 
them as their aristocratic right? Could they fail to trace 
out comparisons between this state of affairs, with their 
consequent ill condition and prospects, and what might 
have existed if their organization had been properly and 
speedily effected in accordance with regulations ? 

The consequence was that there arose in the regiment 

a wide-spread distrust of Captain Palmer and the body 

guard. Although the former was unknown to and had 

never been seen by most of the men, vet, owing to the state 

8 



82 

of things above narrated, all his measures and proposals 
looking to the special service for which the regiment had 
been raised were regarded with suspicion, and even met 
with opposition and rebuff. 

Here let me say in justice to Captain Palmer that when 
he became cognizant of the manner in which the camp at 
Carlisle had been mismanaged and neglected, he expressed 
strong displeasure. I am willing to believe that he had 
not anticipated, and is still unconscious of, the extent and 
bitterness of the scramble for power among his old sub- 
ordinates. 

To show the disordered state of affairs at this time, I will 
here state a few facts. The Captain being in Rebel hands^ 
and the Lieutenant being sick, the command of the 
Cavalry devolved upon the Orderly Sergeant of the 
body-guard. By his order I took possession of such papers 
relating to the Commissary and Quartermaster departments 
as could be found ; but it was impossible to tell what re- 
quisitions had been made, or how and upon whom they had 
been drawn. Investigations, laborious and protracted, re- 
vealed that a portion of our- stores had been sent to the 
front, and had been in possession of the enemy. Special 
inquiries were made at the State capital, and the officer in 
charge of the Quartermaster's department there said " that 
he did not know that we had any right to draw through 
the State authorities, as neither himself nor the Adjutant- 
General of the State knew whether we belonged to the State 
or to the General Government." 

Governor Curtin said ''that he had been trj^ing to get 
control of the regiment, but had not succeeded ; that the 
whole matter of the previous requisitions had been hurried 
through in a very loose way, and that it was now time to 
come down to some system about it ; that if he had control 
of us, things would be brought up with a round turn." 



83 

I also found that there was not even a roster of the 
Tegiment, and I had one prepared in the camp for my own 
use, showing an aggregate of 994 enlisted men. To com- 
mand this full regiment there were less than a dozen 
officers commissioned at Carlisle. 

Putting all these facts together — and many minor ones 
which the limits of this letter exclude— the men of the 
Cavalry began to fear that there had been no authority 
to recruit more than the one battalion originally proposed ; 
that the true cause of the disorganized condition of the 
command was the absence of authority to organize. And 
yet such was the devotion of these men to themselves as a 
body, such the strength of their hope in the future, that 
when, after the campaign of Antietam, .a great majority of 
them were furloughed in the loosest way — some even 
verbally — there was not a single desertion. 

A little more evidence of the bad condition of things. 
Before the gentlemen of the body-guard had received their 
commissions, the duty of drilling the Cavalry was per- 
formed by Sergeants and Corporals of the barracks ; but 
now, after being fully clothed with the long looked for 
authority, the new officers continued to permit their men 
to be drilled as before, and did not personally attend to 
their duties. This abuse became at last so flagrant that 
Captain Ward, who Avas then commanding, found no other 
remedy than to remove the camp from the vicinity of the 
barracks to the other side of the town. 

Having been appointed acting Q. M. Sergeant (as a 
"temporary arrangement")* and orders read that I was 

*Everj' Anclersou Cavalryman will understand the application of this 
phrase; but to others some explanation is necessarj\ Be it known, 
then, that for a long time the orders issued to the regiment at Carlisle 
always bore these words as a preface or appendix, qualifying appoint- 
ments, regulations, details, etc., as so many "temporary arrangements." 



84 

to be obeyed and respected accordingly, I went to the 
barracks to attend to my duties as usual (having done so 
for two months) when I found a member of the body-guard 
there before me. He was there by orders from the Lt. 
Colonel of the regiment (late Lieutenant of the body- 
guard.) Notwithstanding my long occupation of the 
position, being only a private of the Cavalry it was not 
considered worth while to give me any official notice of 
having been relieved. 

On my way back to camp I was overtaken by an orderly 
with orders to me to report immediately to Captain 
Hastings, U. S. A., commanding the barracks and Post. 
He said to me : "I have sent marching orders to your camp, 
but no notice has been taken of them. When will you 
leave ? " 

I told the Captain that I was only a private soldier ; had 
been up to that evening, acting as Quartermaster, but 
finding another attending to the duties of that position,, 
supposed I has been relieved. 

''I dont know," said he, " what your position is, nor can 
I understand how your regiment is organized ; but I learn 
from my subordinates that you are the only executive 
officer in the command who can give me the necessary 
information." 

While Captain Hastings was still talking to me the 
Lieut.-Colonel of the Cavalry was announced. He had 
been a sergeant at these barracks, under the veteran who 
still commanded there, and was subsequently (as has been 
stated) Lieutenant of Buell's body-guard. As he entered 



What the permanent arrangements were intended to be will probablj' 
never be made known. This unhappy designation came at length to be 
regarded as fatally bound up with the affairs of the organization, and 
passed into a regimental proverb. 



85 

in full uniform the Captain U. S. A. arose and saluted his 
superior officer. Here, then, was the explanation of the 
indifference to the marching orders, of which the Captain 
liad just complained ! I left the room feeling that the 
rivalry between the regiment and the regulars of the 
barracks should not be charged entirely on the privates of 
the regiment. Notwithstanding this rival feeling, let me 
here state, the regiment was indebted to Captain Hastings 
and Ordnance Sergeant Furay for many comforts which 
they could not otherwise have obtained. 

For some reason or other my commission as Commissary 
was withheld until the regiment was about to move. As 
it then became apparent that some one would be compelled 
to assume the responsibility of providing for the troops 
•while en route, I was notified on the day previous to the 
departure that I would be commissioned. There were 
no haversacks for the men, no provisions but for one day. 
I waited anxiously for instructions until after dark, and 
then, as none came, made bold to report to the command- 
ing officer for orders. I received only severe censure for 
intruding upon him after '"office hours!" Determined, 
however, that the responsibility of such neglect should have 
no chance to fall upon me, I took private conveyance 
■early next morning to Harrisburg, was mustered in, and 
secured the necessary supplies, with which I joined the 
regiment as it passed through. 

I have been circumstantial in the foregoing, because in 
sno other way could I show in its true light the utter con- 
fusion and want of system in the organization. 

During the transportation of the regiment to the West 
the growing dissatisfaction was lulled by change of scene 
by enthusiastic welcome along the route, and by hope of 
better times when our destination should be reached. 
Throughout that long ride to Louisville these men pre- 



S6 

served decorum, though unguarded and virtually without 
officers — for the latter chose to carry their aristocratic 
ideas so far as to remain together and let their men look 
out for themselves. That many stragglers dropped off 
along the route, and did not return for weeks, is not 
surprising; but that they returned at all voluntarily, when 
desertion was so easy and the chances of inquiry doubtful — 
and, more than all — in the face of the disorganization and 
discontent of their comrades, proves that they possessed a 
wonderful innate sense of duty, and a no less wonderful 
hope. 

As soon as we had got settled in camp at Louisville the 
unhappy internal condition of affairs again became 
apparent. It had been expected by the Cavalry, as 
intimated heretofore, that the body-guard would be trans- 
ferred to the regiment at Louisville as company "A," and 
that they would, therefore, receive their full complement 
of officers, and complete their organization. We found 
here, however, only the senior Major. But the regiment 
was not to be without acting officers — " temporary arrange- 
ments" — as was soon demonstrated. Members of the 
body-guard, on leaves of absence, would visit their com- 
missioned comrades in- the camp, and while remaining 
be invested by their friends with the authority to wear the 
scarf and act as officers of the day or of the guard. The 
baker of the body-guard, a foreigner who could scarcely 
speak English, often assumed such role. All this, the 
reader will understand, from no other reason than that they 
belonged to the "Old Troop," and were therefore (as they 
believed) the legitimate heirs of the power they assumed. 
Those who can conceive the pride a true soldier takes in 
his organization will not fail to see the exasperating 



87 

tendencies of such assumptions — such unauthorized handing^ 
over of a regiment bodily to privates of a different 
organization. 

Nor was there any improvement in other internal affairs. 
A constant conflict of authority was going on between the 
Lieut.-Colonel Commanding and the Majors — the latter 
energetically endeavoring to equip the command and put 
it into service. This clash of authority found a scape-goat 
in me, as it had many times before. Thus, although I 
had been relieved from duty at Carlisle as Acting Quarter- 
master, (by finding another in the place, as stated) yet here 
I was constantly receiving orders from the Majors to turn 
in surplus stores, etc., and was as constantly threatened by 
the Lieut.-Colonel with arrest if I did so — he being un- 
willing to sign even an invoice for stores turned in. 

These complications could not do otherwise than increase 
the uneasiness and discontent in the regiment. The long 
suppressed feelings of the men began to find voice. They 
took counsel among themselves in their messes, and in 
groups by the evening fires, and afterwards in meetings en 
masse that shadowed the coming storm. Letters were 
drawn up and sent to the Secretary of War and the Governor 
of their State, setting forth the nature of their grievances, 
and entreating for the good of the service that a regular 
organization might be vouchsafed them. Some of the men, 
having no faith in the virtue of these appeals, and knowing^ 
full well the determined spirit of their comrades, concluded 
that the organization was already on its last legs, and left 
it for their homes, intending to enter other regiments. 
These absentees, however, returned when it was oflicially 
announced that the Cavalry was being re-organized at 
Murfreesboro. 



88 

At this time the men had formed the determination, and 
liad notified the officers of it, not to march beyond Nash- 
ville without a proper organization. So well aware were 
the Majors of this intention that they contemplated asking 
permission to cross the country into Ea.st Tennessee and 
burn the rail-road bridge at Strawberry Plains. They 
hoped by activity in the field, and the reputation which 
such an achievement would have won, to inspirit the men 
and divert their thoughts from the unhappy condition of 
regimental affairs, I know this to be a fact ; for, having 
formerly lived in East Tennessee, the Majors frequently 
consulted me, while on the march to Nashville, about their 
project, and also discussed the condition of the command, 
and the probable end of the troubles. It is to be regretted 
that the scheme they proposed was not carried out. 

After leaving Louisville — the Lieut. Colonel following 
the main body with two companies — Major Rosengarten 
requested me to take temporary possession of the Quarter- 
master's department, the gentleman of the body-guard who 
had relieved me of that trust at Carlisle being (as stated 
heretofore) only a private and unauthorized to sign receipts. 
As it was urged upon me by both Majors as tending to allay 
the dissatisfaction in the regiment, as well as in the light 
of a personal favor to them, I accepted until we should 
reach Nashville, Avhere a Quartermaster was supposed to 
be awaiting us. 

I found that no proper blanks had been provided, and 
not half the transportation that was allowable; and such 
wagons as we had were mostly loaded with surplus stores 
which should have been left at Louisville. This was the 
•cause of much unnecessary trouble and suffering. Not 
being able to carry subsistence, we were compelled to keep 
up a constant scouring of a country that had already been 
well gleaned by two great armies. 



89 

We readied Nashville on the evening of the 24th Decem- 
ber. The regiment was halted in the streets while I rode 
off, by Major Rosengarten's orders, to report our arrival 
to the commanding General, whom I found at a council of 
of war with a room-full of Generals. My orders were to 
report to him in person, and to do so I was compelled to 
push by guards and elbow Major Generals. General 
Eosecrans received me courteously and gave some instruc- 
tions to Col. Goddard A. A. G., who directed me where 
the command was to locate, and ordered also that we should 
report to the Chief of Cavalry. While the regiment was 
going to camp, which was near Stanley's head-quarters. 
Major Rosengarten sent me off to report to that General. 
I did so, and at the same time made a requisition for forage, 
and got the promise of it in the morning. 

I also found that the Anderson Cavalry had been 
brigaded Avith some other new regiments. 

This fact has been considered by many as the pretext for- 
the outbreak; and, indeed, having been recruited as an 
independent organization, it is only natural that the 
brigading should have increased the discontent among the 
men. But I have already shown that the determination 
of the majority not to march beyond Nashville without 
being efficiently officered, was formed at Louisville, as the 
result of causes hereinbefore mentioned, and that it was 
well known to the officers. As an instance of this, and as 
showing the quiet spirit that actuated the men, I will state 
that on coming to camp that night, before the fact of the 
brigading was known to any one in the regiment but my- 
self, I heard one of the best sergeants say to his horse, 
while unsaddling, "There, that is the last time it goes on your 
hoAik until these difficulties are settled" 



90 

I reported this incident to the Major, who appreciated 
its significance, and talked with me long and anxiously as 
to the probable action of the men. 

There is no reason to suppose that if the regiment had 
been properly organized and officered, a single man would 
have mutinied. Let me here say that I am attempting no 
apology for the outbreak. I opposed it from the start, and 
was the first (and for a time the only) officer who went 
personally among the men to dissuade them from such 
action. I always regarded their conduct as the efforts of 
courageous, high-spirited, but impetuous men to obtain an 
efiective military organization ; smarting under the neglect 
and confusion arising from the squabbles of another organ- 
ization to obtain exclusive control of them; and fearful lest 
the splendid prospects with which they enlisted should 
fizzle away under incapacity and mismanagement: the 
whole arising, as they could not fail to see, from the ir- 
regular, irresponsible, and "temporary" manner in which 
they had originally been recruited aTid organized. 

As to the charge of cowardice, which some stay-at-home 
and detailed -in-the-rear warriors have had the insolence 
to advance, I consider it unworthy of aught but simple 
mention as a part of the history of the event. 

Shortly after going into camp, orders were brought to 
march the regiment at an early hour in the morning 
(Christmas). The Major handed me the despatch, and I 
told him I did not see how it was possible to move so soon, 
without a single ration of forage or subsistence, or a round 
of ammunition, all which would have to be drawn on the 
morrow. The horses had not been fed for more than a 
"day, and had had but little for four days. 

" Well," said he, " the orders are peremptory, and you 
must try to get these things to-night." 



91 

Unfortunately, no one had been left to guide the wagons 
to camp, and but three succeeded in reaching us; these 
three, too, were deserted by their drivers, who liad returned 
to their companies, having previously obtained the per- 
mission of their officers to do so when the regiment should 
arrive at iS^ashville. It took me until near morning to 
get volunteer drivers, find the Commissary's and get 
provisions; but we still had no forage nor ammunition. 
About day-break, the marching orders were countermand- 
ed, and instead of receiving the promised forage orders 
were sent to us for a train and guard to go after it beyond 
the lines. Owing to miserable management this party was 
driven back by the rebels, with the loss of one of our men. 

This incident helped to deepen the discontent, and was 
regarded by the men as sadly confirmatory of their worst 
fears that ''temporary arrangements" would bring upon 
them only disaster and disgrace. 

All this day the regiment remained quietly in camp, 
but during the day sent a committee to wait upon the 
Lieut. Colonel (who had arrived and was commanding), 
stating to him their purpose not to leave that camp until 
properly organized. This notification seemed to produce 
no impression upon the commander, and the swelling tide 
of the mutiny was allowed to take its course. I know not 
what occurred at this interview, but to illustrate some of 
the characteristics of the officer referred to, I will state in 
detail the difficulties and delays which I had to go through 
that very day to obtain his signature to the requi;^ition 
necessary to procure ammunition. 

Presenting the document to him, I reminded him of ths 
urgency of the matter, and asked his immediate approval. 
He said he would send it to me. After waiting some time 
I sent an orderly for it, and it was returned unsigned. In 
a sort of blind hope I took it to the ordnance officer, but 



92 

lie very properly refused to issue on it without approval. 
I returned it to the Lieut. Colonel with a written request 
that he would sign it immediately; his answer was that he 
would attend to it. Waiting awhile again, I went to head- 
quarters and found the envelope open, but the requisition 
■still unsigned. I ventured then to carry it in person to the 
Majors, but they declined to approve it as they were not in 
command. I then addressed the requisition "To whoever is 
in command of the Anderson Cavalry,'' and sent it to the 
head-quarters tent. Not receiving it back, I went to the 
tent again, found the document on his table, and handed 
it to him. Said he : " This is insolent! " I insisted that he 
should sign the paper, and he again said he would send it 
to me. But I remained there for a considerable time, and 
the requisition was still unapproved. In despair I took it 
from the table and was about to leave the tent, when he 
asked what I was going to do. I answered that I was not 
willing to be held responsible for the absence of ammu- 
nition, and that I was going to report to Gen. Stanley his 
refusal to approve the necessary papers. 

He then took and signed it ! Nearly an entire day was 
consumed in these efforts, and it was after dark before I 
secured the ammunition. 

In anticipation of the march in the morning (orders to 
that effect having been received), I was detailed to remain 
in charge of the camp, with a guard and the sick. The 
usual confusion of things w^as exhibited even in this, for I 
j-eceived but two of the details, and found it impossible to 
make a correct roll ofthose who remained with me by orders. 
The memorable morning — December 26 — arrived. 
About 7 o'clock orders came to march ; but, although the 
usual early reveille had been sounded, the marching orders 
were followed by no ''Officers' Call," no ''Boots and 
Saddles," no formal intimation whatever to the men that 



93 

they were expected to go anywhere. Authority in the 
regiment, always confused and irregular, was now utterly 
paralyzed, and the outbreak received the strongest en- 
couragement by meeting with no official opposition. 

It soon became manifest that but a few were preparing 
to march. Only one company entire (L)* saddled up, 
when it became known that the command had been 
ordered off. 

Meeting Major Rosengarten, we rode together outside 
of camp, and talked the situation over. He was much 
vexed at the mismanagement of affairs, and the lamenta- 
ble result, and, as if in despair, rode off to head-quarters to 
persuade Gen. Rosecrans to countermand the order of 
march for the Anderson Cavalry, in hope of gaining time 
for a speedy settlement of the difficulties. In this request 
he was joined by Gen. Mitchell, Commanding District 
who was also aware of the condition of the regiment, and 
stated further that he would need their assistance to convoy 
trains to and from the front. But the Commanding 
General deemed it best not to grant the request. 

Returning to camp I found no further preparations 
making, but the arms were stacked in the company streets, 
and the men remained quietly in their quarters. The 
officers were gathered at head-quarters, clanned together 
as usual, discussing the situation, and, no doubt, ready to 
folloiu such of their men as would decide to go. I heard 
one of the Captains say "that he hoped the men would 
remain firm, and that he would be glad of an opportunity 
to go with the boys"— meaning the body-guard. Going 
among the men of this officer's company, I had no great 
difficulty in persuading most of them to saddle up, and I 



* Excepting one meml)er of it. 



94 

reported to their Captain that his men were going. The 
strongest argument I used with these men was that there 
certainly would be a battle. 

Another officer requested me to use my efforts with his 
company, which I gladly did ; but when I had got so far 
as to consider my mission accomplished, up rides an 
orderly from head-quarters, a member of the body-guard, 
who proceeded to tell what he knew. His opinion of the 
military situation was different from mine, for he assured 
his hearers that there certainly would not be a battle, that 
it was "merely the forward movement of a campaign"; 
and that they must not allow themselves to be diverted 
from their purpose by other statements, &c., &c. Other 
orderlies from head-quarters (members of the body-guard) 
frequently passed through the camp reiterating these 
assurances, and advising the Cavalry to stand firm. 

Major Ward,who was sick and dispirited, said to my 
entreaty that he would remain in camp: "No, I will go 
with the boys that go into this battle, and then resign, for 1 
am not willing to see such men so shamefully treated. 

I am very careful in reporting the actions and words of 
the deceased Majors at this time, as there is no one but 
myself to mention them. 

After the three hundred had gone — some of them, 
including the two Majors, never to return alive — I 
personally reported the state of affairs to Gen. Mitchell. 
He censured me severely, in the warmth of his feeling, 
saying that experience had proved that the inefficiency of 
officers was the cause of all the troubles in volunteer 
regiments. 

During the next few days the camp was visited by many 
officers, soldiers, and citizens, all anxious to see the 
" mutineers." Most of these visitors advised the men to 
maintain their position. The quiet and orderly conduct 



95 

of all— guarding their own canap, &c., — seemed to astonish 
observers, who probably expected to find a turbulent and 
noisy crew, held in subjection by the bayonet. This 
impression was also shared by the authorities, for I was 
twice offered a guard for pergonal protection ! Members 
of the regiment, especially those who remained at camp, 
will smile at this evidence of the desperate reputation 
which they had unconsciously acquired. As for myself I 
need hardly say that I never felt safer in my life than I 
did amongst these terrible fellows, although I was aware 
of being very unpopular with them. 

The bulk of the rations drawn for the regiment having 
gone to the front with the three hundred, those men who 
remained were compelled, (after sharing the provisions 
that had been retained for the guards, &c.) to forage for 
subsistence in the best way they could. For the horses 
they were glad to dig up the refuse corn from the mud at 
the late site of the wagon parks ; and as for the men them- 
selves, I need only state that I— though a Commissary and 
acting Quartermaster, positions wherein one is supposed 
always to be able to look out for self— was very glad to 
purchase from an Irish laborer in the Q. M. D. the cold 
remnants of his dinner. But the men stood it bravely, 
accepting with a good grace the consequences of their 
defection. 

During this time I did all that my poor efforts could do 
to reason with them, speaking to them individually and 
collectively; but the only result of my endeavors seemed 
to be that I was looked upon as crazy on the subject — an 
impression which obtains among some of them to this day! 

On the 29th December, a Captain came to camp, having 
been out with a squad of the men to secure and bury the 
body of our comrade who had been killed on Christmas 
morning. I turned over the camp to this officer, and he 



96 

succeeded in obtaining about 30 men to go with him to the- 
front. Before starting that way, I accompanied him to- 
Gen. Mitchell, to whom he reported the refusal of the rest 
of the command to march with him. At this interview 
with Gen. Mitchell, Gen. Morgan, commanding the Post 
being present, they both declared it to be their purpose to 
fire upon the mutineers if still persistent in their dis- 
obedience. 

Accordingly on the next ^^.ay (30th), Gen. Morgan 
marched a regiment of infantry and one of cavalry to the 
camp, and surrounded it. He then sent a message to the 
men that he wished to address them. Immediately, with 
true soldierly spirit, they went to their quarters and 
equipped themselves as for dress parade, but without arms r 
marched out by companies and formed regimental front 
with a precision and celerity that made a visible impression 
on the troops that surrounded them. 

Gen. Morgan then ordered his men to load, after which 
he read his orders, and asked the Cavalry if they still 
refused to march. A few stepped to the front, one after- 
another, and replied, briefly referring to their defective 
organization ; to the long suffering and forbearance with 
which from Carlisle to that place they had withstood the 
consequent neglect and abuse; to their appeals to the 
Governor of their State and to the General Government^, 
which had met with no attention. They had not made 
this stand out of fear of the enemy, for they were ready 
to meet death there, if need be, at the hands of their friends. 
The General replied in substance : "Of your organization 
or history I know nothing, nor is it my business to consider 
either. You are soldiers, sworn to obey the orders of your 
superiors. I also am a soldier, and am here under orders 
to compel your obedience. I do not wish to use the force- 



with which I have been sent here, but I should be in 
mutiny like yourselves if I refused to obey my orders." 

He then announced that he would allow them five minutes 
to come to decision. 

It was a remarkable scene. Here were less than 500 
men, standing shoulder to shoulder, silent and determin- 
ed ; without arms, but strong in their conviction of right ; 
facing two regiments that might in a few moments more 
cut them to pieces. The five minutes grace were passing 
away — the last one had come, the most trying moment oi 
my life. I begged the General to grant five minuter more, 
and asked his permission to go amongst the men. I appeal- 
ed to them by every consideration that could touch the heads 
or hearts of people ; but the only result of my efforts was that 
some of my own guards joined the ranks to share the fate 
of their comrades. 

General Morgan was a man of tact as well as of feeling. 
He assured the Cavalhy that, after all, their wishes and 
his orders were about the same ; that his desire was to lead 
them to Gen. Rosecrans, who would see, he doubted not, 
that they were at once properly organized. This proposition 
had the desired effect. The men saddled up with alacrity ; 
indeed, so universal was the desire to go to the front, and 
so inspiring the hope that something at last would be done 
for the regiment, that I was compelled to threaten some of 
my own detachment with arrest to prevent them from 
going. 

Gen. Morgan detailed Col. Woods, of the Illinois 
regiment of infantry that had marched out to camp, to 
lead the Ca.vat.ry to the head-quarters of Gen Rosecrans. 

I pause here to notice a statement which has been made, 
that those who went with Col. ^yoods did not comprise all 
the mutineers. I have my own knowledge to the contrary; 
and in addition have the statement of Col. W. himself to 



98 

the efiect that he believed not a man was left in camp ex- 
cept those whose duty it was to remain. If any but these 
did remain, they must have secreted themselves, and there 
are always some scallawags in the best of regiments. 

At or near Lavergne the command was stopped by a 
heavy force of the enemy's cavalry, under Wheeler, who 
wa?3 destroying wagon-trains, &c. Col. Woods, having had 
no experience with cavalry, transferred the command to a 
cavalry officer who had accompanied him. An attack was 
about to be made, when an escaped prisoner — an officer — 
came up and reported tlie rebels to be in overwhelming 
force. It was therefore not deemed prudent to attack ; but 
the men urged to be led on, saying that annihilation was^ 
better than returning to camp. The officer in command 
afterwards said that it was harder to keep them from 
sacrificing themselves unnecessarily than it had been to 
start them from camp. The party then fell back, about a 
htmdred of them going into camp six miles from Nashville, 
whence they made their way next day to the army ; but the 
majority, disheartened and desperate, having no subsistence 
for themselves or their horses, and no shelter from the 
storm that was then raging, returned again to the camp at 
Nashville, where they hoped to find relief. The horses 
were so famished that it 'required skill to mount without 
upsetting them, and they perished, scores daily, of 
starvation. 

At midnight Col. Woods came again to the camp, with 
orders to take the command once more to the front ; but 
it was impossible to get a single man out of his blanket- 
And if it had been possible, the chances were that the troop- 
er would have found his horse dead. This was the last 
attempt made by Gen. Mitchell to get the Cavalry into 
the field. On the evening of next day — the last day of the 
year — he sent troops and wagons from the city, and the 



99 

mutineers, by orders, piled their arms and accoutreraente 
into the wagons,and marched to the city Workhouse escort- 
ed by the troops. 

I encamped my guard and sick on a hillock near the 
waterworks, formed of offal and the refuse of camps, having 
been ordered there as it was an unoccupied point 
in the defences. It hardly needed military occupation, we 
thought, for it possessed in itself a strong element of defence. 
The camp here was so aptly named that it must ever re- 
main one of the classic remembrances of the regiment. 

On the 1st, 2d, and 3d of January, 1863, those who had 
gone into the fight returned in detachments. They had 
seen a week's hard service ; both men and horses were 
nearly used up. True to the determination which they 
had formed with their comrades, to compel a reorganiza- 
tion of the regiment, a great many of these returned men 
courageously gave up their arms and joined their comrades 
in theWorkhouse. The latter was consequently overflowed 
and many were placed without shelter in the yard of the 
prison. Those who remained in camp had but little shelter 
nor provisions, the camp equipage having been taken by 
the Government, and it being impossible to obtain approval 
for requisitions. The officers positively refused to receipt 
for any stores that might be drawn for the use of their men. 
Many of the latter had been stripped of their clothing by 
the rebels, and were almost naked, I was compelled to 
assume the responsibility of drawijig clothing and issuing 
it in person to these men in order to save them from 
freezing to death. Those familiar with the customs of 
service will understand the great irregularity of this 
proceeding, and my only excuse is that, though it was ir- 
regular, it saved some valuable lives. 

I know not how to express my thanks to A. Q, Masters 
Chas. H. Irwin and T. K. Dudley, to whose kindness I 



100 

■vvas in a great measure indebted for the ability to draw as 
stated. 

From the first intimation of the troubles, and the purpose 
to openly demand a remedy, many of the men had received 
■enaoaragement from their families and friends at home ; 
and as many of them were connected with influential 
circles, the promises of legal and other aid carried great 
weight. But now that the stand had been made, and the 
•strong hand of military power was laid upon those who 
had taken part in it, none of the promised help from home 
appeared. On the contrary the journals there teemed with 
editorials, letters, and despatches, pronouncing eternal 
infamy upon the mutineers. Their motives were mis- 
represented or misunderstood, some ascribing it wholly to 
disappointment in not finding the regiment accepted by 
Gen. Rosecrans as a " body-guard ; " some to the fact of the 
brigading ; some to a desire to escape the service altogether ; 
and some to the Emancipation Proclamation. This last^ 
it seems, was the impression received at Washington, and 
by the Secretary of War, who was reported as saying that 
the outbreak of the regiment from such a motive was the 
worst thing that liad happened daring the war. He also 
sent an inspecting officer to look into the matter, and this 
officer had evideiitly received his instructions under the 
impression I have stated. The Nasliville rebels also held 
the opinion that such was the cause of the trouble, and no 
doubt wrote astonishing letters to their Confederate friends 
about the wholesale throwing down of arms by Yankee 
troops because they were not willing to have the niggers 
set free. Not a few little dinners were given by rebel 
admirers to some of these supposed enemies of emancipa- 
tion. To those who asked advice in tlie premises, instruc- 
tions were given to obey St Paul's injunction: '• Eat, and 
ask no questions, for the stomach's sake." 



101 

Meanwhile the abuse of the unfortunate men by the 
organs of opinion at home continued to increase if possible, 
and scarcely a voice was lifted up to soften or explain their 
offence. I am tempted to say much more on this point 
but must hurry on. 

Eeceiving such unbounded censure instead of the advice 
and assistance that had been promised,finding their motives 
wholly misunderstood or wilfully perverted, served only 
to intensify the devotion of the men to their cause. They 
demanded a trial by court-martial. The majority became 
mono-manias on this subject, insisting on a court-martial 
even if it resulted in the death of some of them. Misun- 
derstanding the nature of such a court (which considers 
facts, not motives) they hoped that their good intentions 
might thus be proved to the world. This demand became 
at last so earnest and obstinate, that it was captiously 
charged to a desire of escaping service entirely. 

This slander is hardly worth disproving ; but the facts 
are at hand, and may as well be stated. It having been 
reported that an order was extant, allowing men to be 
transferred from the army to the gun-boat service, a 
committee of the men in the Workhouse waited upon me 
with an urgent request that I would ascertain if they could 
be so transferred ; but from officers of gun-boats then at 
Nashville I learned that there was no such order. And 
here is an individual instance, still more significant. 
Among the many whom I removed from the Workhouse 
to the hospital was one who protested to the last that he 
would not go, as he had learned that it was the intention 
of his friends to purchase his discharge. I respected his 
motive, and it was only when the responsibility of his 
death was thrown upon me by a surgeon's certificate that 
his life was in danger, that I at last removed him to a. 
hospital. 



102 

I may state, too, that with most of those whom I sent to 
the hospitals, I had difficulty to get their consent, as they 
looked upon it as deserting the rest. 

What better proof can there be that the object of these 
men was not to leave the service, but to obtain an organ- 
ization that would result in something better than " tempo- 
rary arrangements " and disorder? 

The Workhouse, where the majority of the men were 
confined, was a long, low, brick shed, on the river bluff, 
with a leaky roof, and a bare, muddy floor. The heaps of 
stone, at Avhich petty offences against civil law were wont 
to be expiated, still remained in the corners, and were now 
used as depositories for blankets and utensils, or as a 
lounge of relief from the unhealthy ground. The few fires, 
of green or wet wood, filled the area with a dense smoke, 
and from this arose the title which the men always gave 
to the place, the "Smoke House." It was a sad sight to 
see these hundreds of young men, with inflamed eyes, 
violent coughs, and husky voices; faces purple with fever, 
or haggard with the wasting diseases engendered by the 
place. Dreadful as this was, however, the unfortunate 
youths who had been quartered in the prison yard (some 
distance from the Workhouse) were in far more pitiable 
plight. Without shelter of any kind, sick, famished, 
ragged and freezing ; deep in water and mud, and in the 
accumulated filth of their confinement — the scene was one 
which I have no disposition to dwell upon. 

The court martial demanded by the men was granted. 
Eleven of their number were tried, and it was rumored 
had bean con lemned to death ; but no such result was ever 
published in orders. Tliere was a far more probable rumor 
to the effect that no formal sentence was ever fixed, the 
•evidence pointing conclu-jively to the fact that the men 
had used every means in their power to obtain a proper 



103 

organization. Of course the truth of the matter can only 
be known by examining the records of theWar Department, 

On or about the 20th January, Gen. Eosecrans sent a 
proposition to the confined men, promising to have them 
speedily reorganized and put into service if they would at 
once return to duty. Part of them accepted at once, and 
were quartered in the building that then stood at the corner . 
of Broad and Cherry Sts. The number increased rapidly 
from day to day, until two other buildins:s were taken to 
accommodate them. By the 13th February all had left 
the prison and the Smoke House. From this time the 
condition of the men in every way began to improve ; and 
when Colonel Palmer arrived soon after, and began ta 
reconstruct the ruins of the "temporary arrangement" by 
accepting the resignations of all the officers, the men 
eagerly went down to the new camp at Murfreesboro a? 
fast as they were sent for. At the same time, on official 
notice being given, most of those who had in disgust made 
their way home, returned to the regiment. In less than 
two months the command was in the field again, sadly 
thinned, it is true, but fully officered and equipped, and 
immediately entered upon that career of independent 
service which needs no further mention here. 

In closing, I repeat that I make no apology for the 
mutiny. I always censured the action of the men as im- 
prudent and untimely, but have always felt that their motive 
merited some public defence. If this plain statement shall 
dislodge a single prejudice against those in whose interest 
I have written, they and I will be amply repaid. 
Yours truly, 

Geo. S. Fobes, 
Late Quartermaster of the Anderson Cavalry. 



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